Bound Together
by snchills
Summary: John uses a resurrection spell to try to bring back Dean, but someone else is brought back into Dean's body instead. Better summary inside. Not a death fic I promise.
1. A Terrible Mistake

Summary: A ghostly attack on Dean forces John to use a resurrection spell with dire consequences. Unable to bring Dean back, they are forced to deal with the stranger who came back instead. Will they be able to try the spell again after they get to know and care for the stranger now living in Dean's body? And why is the stranger the only one who can communicate with Dean's ghost? Not a permanent death fic…only a temporary one, I promise.

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Chapter 1: A Terrible Mistake

"Alright then I'll talk with you later." John said before he put down his cell phone. Grabbing his journal he headed next door to Dean and Sam's motel room. Entering without knocking he found them both sitting at the kitchenette table.

"What's up Dad?" Dean asked putting down the weapon he was cleaning as soon as he saw his father enter in their room.

"I just got a call from a buddy of mine, Davis McKinley. He's a Curator at the Danvers Museum of Fine Arts in Oklahoma City. It seems they've been having some strange occurrences there for the last few days." John said pulling up another chair to the table and sitting down.

Dean smirked and Sam shot him a warning glance.

"Dean, what's your problem?" John asked annoyed catching his sons smirk.

"Nothin Dad, it's just I thought Sammy boy here was the only one who had art geek friends." He laughed as Sam slapped his shoulder in retaliation for the remark.

"Jesus Dean…" John started but Sammy interrupted

"What kind of occurrences Dad?" Sam asked trying to keep John's exasperation from escalating.

"Davis seems to think one of their museum pieces may be haunted. It's a hand made 19th century ceramic urn that contained the ashes of a well know local occultist, some guy named Raul Caspasian. They've had the piece for almost a month with no problems until last week." John explained giving Dean an exasperated look.

"What happened last week?" Dean asked ignoring the look from his father.

"Apparently one of the staffers was cleaning it when he chipped the seal around the urns lid. Davis said he wasn't sure exactly what happened, only that the staffer was found slashed to death by a co-worker minutes after he started working on the piece. It wasn't until after the police left and they found the urn again that they noticed the chip missing." John explained leaning back in the chair.

"What made them think it wasn't just some wacko with a knife that killed that guy?" Dean asked again incurring another glare from John.

"The co-worker had only left him alone for few minutes. He went down the hall to make a call, and came back to find this guy ripped to shreds on the floor. Security cameras verified where both men were at the time of the murder." John explained further.

"But Dad if they had security cameras on both men why didn't it catch what happened to the first guy?" Sam asked confused. He presumed in a building that housed so many expensive artifacts they would a state of the art security system.

"Davis thought it should have as well. They went back to look at the tape and everything is normal up to the moment the staffer chipped the lid, then the camera went blank, only to come back on moments after the guy was killed." John said as he flipped through his journal checking his notes.

"That still doesn't explain away the fact that something human could have killed the guy." Dean said still thinking about what else could have slashed the staffer to pieces in such a short time.

"True enough son, but Davis says he thinks he saw something else on the tape. Something he didn't want to mention to anyone else, certainly not to the police." John smiled as he noticed he finally had his son's complete attention. "He told me that just before the camera went blank, just for an instant, he thought he saw something coming out of the urn. He wants us to come to OKC to take a look at the tape and the urn."

"So you're saying that the trapped spirit of a 100 yr old occultist is now loose and roaming around this museum?" Sam asked sitting back in his chair giving his brother a sly smile.

"That's what it looks like son." John answered.

"Sounds like our kind of gig. So we're heading to Oklahoma City then right Dad?" Dean asked standing up.

"Get packin boys." John said getting up as well. " We leave in 15 minutes."

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The boys followed John's truck in the Impala, and after getting a bite to eat at a local diner and settling in their motel near Bricktown, they headed over to the museum. Apparently every school was having their field trip that day because the museum was packed with students of every age. Younger boys chased each other around statues as teenagers nearby expressed boredom listening to the guides speak. Dean chuckled to himself remembering how much he hated field trips to what ever museum was nearby. Science museums were the only ones he ever found interesting. Looking over at Sam he could see his brother on the other hand was in his glory. Sam wandered around actually looking at the art forgetting for the moment why they were there. Dean looked over and shook his head when he saw Sam stop to read about a Picasso that was hanging nearby.

'_I just don't get it?'_ Dean asked himself seeing the throngs of people roaming around the museum. _'Don't they have anything better to do?'_ Suddenly a group of college girls hanging out by a rather ugly bronze sculpture caught his attention. Smiling, Dean was about to head over there when he heard a whistle and turned to see his brother giving him a dirty look and a nod in the direction he was suppose to be heading.

"Damn it Sammy you're no fun." He hoisted up his backpack on his shoulder again and headed in the direction his brother went. Spotting Sam quickly in the crowd Dean stayed a few feet to the left of him looking in the opposite direction for any signs of the ghost.

The trio searched until it was past closing time and had yet to spot the urns inhabitant. Davis had told them they could stay after the museum closed but to stay out of the view of the security guards. Dean was roaming around the empty halls, having dodged most of the guards, when one of the museum guides spotted him on his way to clock out. Annoyed that there was someone still inside after closing, the guide headed over to Dean. The man, Dean guessed to be in his 30's, stopped suddenly half way to Dean, and gave a visible shiver before starting towards Dean again. Cursing himself for getting caught, Dean was about to spin a lie about why he was there after closing, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark shadow rush the other man. Before he could shout out a warning the shadow started to rip into the guide, slashing the horrified man to pieces in a matter of moments.

Hearing the man scream out, Dean pulled his weapon and rushed over to try to save him. He was only able to get off one shot when the creature turned without warning and attacked him in the same manner. Huge claws ripped into Dean's body as he felt himself being dragged away down the hall. Fighting with all his strength he tried to get at the holy water in his back pack but found it ripped away as he heard laughter coming from the creature. It was over in seconds as with one swipe the creature tore at Dean's throat and his body laid still as he quickly bled to death. Hearing the shot Sam came running only to find the first man lying in a pool of his own blood. Leaning over he could see the man struggling to breath.

"Help me." the man said gasping for breath. Knowing the man was already beyond help he took off his jacket and placed it under the mans head. The dying man's crystal blue eyes looked up at Sam's face.

"Call Marybeth, it's our anniversary and I'm gonna be late for dinner." He managed to get out as Sam leaned in closer. Then he lifted a bloody hand and pointed it in the direction Dean was dragged off in.

"Help him…." he said before closing his eyes and breathing his last breath. Sammy looked around, turning pale as he immediately noticed the bloody trail leading away from the dead man. Scrambling up he followed the trail and stopped dead in his tracks as he found John kneeling over the bloodied body of his brother. Clutching Dean's amulet and speaking in a language Sam didn't recognize, John was chanting while Sam grabbed his brother's bloody hand and held it tightly.

"Oh my god Dean." Sam started crying as he wiped the blood from Dean's face. Repeating the words John concentrated solely on his oldest son ignoring the pleas from his youngest for his brother to be okay. Sam dropped his brother's hand as a strange bluish light began to surround Dean's body. John leaned back watching as he finished the spell. Suddenly the light dissipated and Dean's body gasped out taking in a deep breath.

Relieved, John and Sam moved in to help Dean who was continuing to struggle to breathe. Looking at his throat Sam noticed the wound already starting to heal as Dean's breaths became more regular. Minutes passed and Sam called out his brother's name as they pulled Dean into a seated position. Weak and disoriented Dean slowly opened his eyes.

"Dean thank god, you're okay. You really scared the hell out of us son." John spoke the color returning to his own face as he watched Dean open his eyes and look around at them.

"Dad what the hell just happened?" Sam asked as he realized his brother, who had just died in front of him, was now sitting up, and looking around.

"I used a resurrection spell Sammy." John told him as he saw his sons shocked look on his face. "I don't have time to get into this right now Sam, just be glad that it worked."

Sam nodded and looked back at his brother, watching the wounds continue to heal. _Dean _looked back and forth between them with a growing look of confusion on his face.

"Where am I? Who are you people?" frightened, he looked up at John and Sam, and then back at the blood that covered his hands. "What happened to me?"

"Dean it's alright, you're gonna be okay now." Sam comforted his brother slightly unnerved by the fear he heard in his brother's voice.

"Who's Dean?" He looked at Sam confused before trying to get up. Seeing the man struggle Sam grabbed his arm and helped him up giving his father an alarmed look. John returned the glance as he watched his oldest son gingerly walk away.

"Dad?" Sam asked as Dean moved a few feet out of sight. Suddenly they heard him scream out. Running in the direction he had gone in they found him kneeling at the body of the other man. _Dean_ turned around horrified as they ran up behind him.

"What happened to me? Oh my god, look at me…..I don't understand…." he cried out looking at _his_ body on the floor. His eyes still opened but lifeless, _Dean_ reached out to shut them with a tremble in his hand. He spotted Sam's jacket underneath his head and gently pulled it out holding it up for the younger Winchester to take back. Sam reached for his jacket without thinking still confused for a moment as to what was going on. _Dean_ looked up at John before standing up again. Breathless, shock beginning to set in, he looked at his body covered in blood on the floor.

"What the hell is going on?" He said weakly before collapsing into John and Sam's arms.

It was a struggle, but the two Winchesters were able to get the young man out of the building without being seen by the security guards. Gently seating him in the truck, John turned and started to head back into the museum.

"Dad, where the hell are you going?" Sam asked as he held on to his unconscious _brother_ next to him

"Just stay with him Sammy. I'll be right back." John said without further explanation. 10 minutes later John arrived back at the truck with their packs loaded on his shoulder.

"We can't just leave these lying around" he said as Sam jumped out and watched him throw them in the back of the truck. "We can't have the police tracing anything back to us."

"That's what you're worried about Dad, the police finding our weapons in the museum. Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with you?" Sam looked over at John incredulously. "What about Dean? What about what happened for Christ's sake? Just who the hell is this man if he's not my brother and where the hell did my brother go?" By this time Sam was starting to lose control as the ramifications of what happened began to set in.

"Sammy get in the truck" John ordered him as Sam moved up into his face. The younger Winchester refused to budge instead stared at his father demanding an answer. "Sammy we don't have time for this just get into the damn truck!"

Just then they heard the alarms go off as the _body_ was discovered. Reluctantly Sam got into the truck with John getting behind the wheel, peeling out before security had time to stop and question them. Half a mile away the cops sped by them as the two Winchesters sat stone face looking at the road, an unconscious stranger sitting between them.

Tbc

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Authors note: I know I did it again, but Dean's not really dead I promise. It's gonna take John and Sam awhile to get the real Dean back but until then they will have to learn how to deal with the _Dean_ they did get back. Thanks for reading and please leave a review at the exit.


	2. Adjusting

Summary: A ghostly attack on Dean forces John to use a resurrection spell with dire consequences. Unable to bring Dean back, they are forced to deal with the stranger who came back instead. Will they be able to try the spell again after they get to know and care for the stranger now living in Dean's body? And why is the stranger the only one who can communicate with Dean's ghost? Not a permanent death fic…only a temporary one, I promise.

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Chapter 2: Adjusting.

Pulling up in front of their motel, they were both happy to see there was no one else around. No one around to witness them carrying the stranger into the brother's motel room. Sam still had a multitude of questions but John stayed quiet. They laid him out on the bed and John began to check to make sure the most recent wounds were still healing. Satisfied that they were he sat down on a nearby chair as Sam sat on the bed next to his _brother._

"This is Dean, right Dad? I'm mean, he's just a little disorientated?" Sam looked over at is father for verification. "Because if what he said was true, if what he said when he saw that guy's body…..that would mean….." Sam stopped. He knew what it meant. It meant his brother was dead, and someone else was now inside his body. How could that be?

"Dad, Oh my god." Sam's head sunk into his hands as he waited for his father to answer. John got up and moved over to the bed. He touched the unconscious man's hair. It looked like Dean, felt like Dean, but he knew in his heart something had horribly gone wrong. Sam was right. Dean's body was alive but it wasn't Dean who now inhabited it. Somehow he had brought someone else back instead of his son.

"What have I done?" He said as he continued to touch Dean's hair. He looked over at Sammy with tears welling up in his eyes. Sam looked back his eyes doing the same.

"Dean's dead right Dad?" he waited for this father to confirm his worst fear.

"I don't know son." John answered back. It was the truth. The spell should have worked. John mulled about what could have possibly gone wrong. He had never used that particular spell before, knowing what kind of power it represented. Bringing someone back from the dead was nothing to trifle with, and John had used it without hesitation totally ignoring the warning the voodoo priestess had given him when she shared the spell with him. But what choice did John have? Seeing his son laying there covered in blood forced him to do the unthinkable and he would do it again if necessary. Anything to protect his sons…anything.

"Dad where's Dean?" he heard Sam fearfully whisper.

"I don't know……" John said without looking at his son. Sam got up, moved to the doorway, and looked out.

"What are we going to do now Dad?" he said looking back at his _brother_ on the bed.

"I don't know….." There it was, the only answer John Winchester possessed. That answer was little comfort to Sam as he continued to look at the stranger inhabiting his brother's body.

It was middle of the night, when the stranger woke up in the unfamiliar motel room. At first he thought it was all a dream, one where he would open his eyes and turn to find his wife laying next to him. Instead he found two strangers sprawled out, one in a kitchen chair, and the other on the bed next to his own. He got up slowly and made his way to the bathroom, his body feeling strange and unnatural as he walked. As he turned on the light it became immediately clear why he felt that way. The face reflected in the mirror was a face he had never seen before.

Feeling his legs get weak he grabbed the sink to keep from hitting the floor. He looked down at his hands and then down the rest of his body, a strangers body, before returning to his reflection in the mirror. He closed his eyes at the sight of the strange face but quickly reopened them as he was overwhelmed by the memory of his bloodied body lying on the floor back at the museum. He needed some answers and realized they rested with the two men out in the bedroom. The older one he hadn't a clue who he was but the younger man he recognized as the one who had comforted him as he was dying.

Dying…….

"I died." He said to himself as he stood in the bathrooms doorway and looked back into the bedroom. John started to stir and slowly opened his eyes.

"Sammy…" he called out to his youngest son as he looked up to see crystal blue eyes starring back at him. Sam slowly came around to his father's voice. Looking over at the empty bed next to him he whipped up and saw the same thing his father did.

"Dean are you okay?" he asked immediately forgetting it was no longer his brother. He watched his brothers face wince at the sound of the strange name. The person so familiar to them moved hesitantly into the room and sat at the table across from John.

"I suppose you want some answers." John said unable to stop looking at the strange blue eyes instead of the hazel ones he was used to.

"That would be helpful. Right now I would be happy with lies if it meant I wasn't losing my mind." He looked back at John and then over to Sam.

"You're in my son's body." John explained coolly trying to control his emotions.

"I can see that. The question I have now is how the hell did _that_ happen?" His brow furrowed as his eyes demanded further explanation.

"This is going to sound a little weird…" John wasn't sure how this _Dean_ would take the news of what he had done to him.

"Weirder than 'you're in my sons body?' he asked slightly amused. "I think we're considerably past the _weird_ part. I'm an open minded man, just start at the beginning."

John looked over at Sam. He still wasn't sure if he could trust the stranger with the real reason without having to delve into their family history. Sure the guy needed answers, but John wasn't ready to have to explain how he even knew about the spell or what it was back at the museum that attacked him. Sam saw his father's hesitation and gave him the okay.

"I used a resurrection spell." John nodded back to Sam before he began. He looked back at the stranger, who's blue eyes continued to stare back at him, waiting for further information.

"A resurrection spell? You mean you brought me back from the dead?" the stranger asked slowly trying to understand exactly what John was alluding to.

"Yes." John answered never taking his eyes off the stranger. The stranger looked down at the table as he digested John's answer then he looked back with another question.

"We were both attacked by some…... god I'm not sure what the hell it was, it happened so fast. I saw it go after him right after it got me. That was your son?" the stranger's body gave a shudder as he remembered the horror of the creature rushing him.

"Yes, my son, Dean." John nodded. The stranger looked over at him with sympathy in his eyes. He realized how desperate John must have been to go to such lengths to save his son.

"I guess I'm not what you were expecting?" He asked already knowing the answer.

"No you're not."

"I assume you know how to fix this?" As the stranger asked the question he looked John square in the eye.

"Not a clue." John answered meeting his gaze.

"I see, so what do we do now? A resurrection spell, I didn't even know there was such a thing. How the hell did you find out about it?"

"Voodoo priestess in Louisiana." John continued, keeping his answers short.

"That would explain it then." The stranger laughed to himself. "Stop me if I get this wrong. First I'm attacked by some creature that slashes me _and_ your son to death, you bring me back to life with a spell you got from a voodoo priestess from Louisiana, and now I'm standing here talking to you from inside your dead son's body."

"In a nut shell." John started to chuckle nervously as he realized how absurd it all sounded, even to him.

"Do you have anything to drink around here, I think I'm gonna need something strong." The stranger said looking dazed as he leaned back in the chair.

"I think we're all gonna need a drink or two tonight, but I'm sorry Dean, the bar is dry tonight." He said sweeping his hand around the room. He saw _Dean_ wince again and realized his mistake immediately.

"Sorry."

"It's ok, I mean I look just like your son and I'm sure I must sound like him as well. I'm not sure what to do next. God this is so weird…I guess I should introduce myself, my name is Chris Eddings. Please don't take this the wrong way, but I hope you don't expect me to answer to your son's name from now on." Chris smiled, wanting to get the point across without hurting their feelings. Seeing John's silent reaction, he ran his hands through his hair and sat back cursing himself for saying the wrong thing.

Chris glanced over at Sam, and was comforted with a sympathetic look from him. Sam himself was struggling with the circumstances and he had been around the supernatural all his life. He could only imagine what it was like for this _civilian_ to wake up inside his brother's body. He credited the guy for taking it so well because he was quite sure if it had happened to him he would have been freaking out.

Sitting there, Sam watched the stranger, caught between a weird fascination and an overwhelming sadness. His heart race furiously as he checked the guy out. Only his blue eyes and mannerisms set him apart from his brother, everything else was the same. This man was his brother but yet not his brother. Sammy decided he needed find out who this stranger was.

"Maybe we need to start at the beginning. Maybe you could tell us something about yourself, like, umm, how old you are, where you're from?" Sam suddenly spoke up feeling like an idiot but curious none the less. Chris turned and gave Sam a warm smile. He took a deep breath and started to speak, not sure how much they would really want to learn about him.

"I was born in Buffalo, NY. I'm 34. I just had a birthday in May…the 25th." Chris answered, remembering the surprise birthday party his wife had thrown him. Lots of cake, lots of friends, lots of Marybeth afterwards.

"Dean's 27," Sam answered back sadly. "was 27."

"Sammy…" John warned him.

"Sammy, that's your name?" Chris asked looking over at Sam, hoping to draw the younger man into the conversation further. Sam's eyes clouded and he turned away.

"Sam, only my family calls me Sammy." Sam answered inconsolably not wanting the stranger to start calling him by his brother's nickname for him.

"Sammy…" John warned again. Chris smiled as he caught the hint.

"It's okay, I completely understand." He looked over at John uneasily.

"I'm John Winchester." John felt weird to be introducing himself to the man who looked exactly like his son.

"Nice to meet you John, you too Sam." Chris reached across the table and offered his hand to John. John shook the hand hesitantly, then pulled away quicker than he intended. Sam saw his father's reaction and turned away again not wanting to see the hurt in his father's eyes. Chris saw John's reaction to the handshake and regretted the offer immediately.

"Sorry…it's just…habit. I can't imagine what it's like for you two. Here I am looking exactly like Dean and not a clue how to be him." Chris said, once again cursing himself for doing the wrong thing.

"No one is expecting you to act like Dean." Sam instantly felt bad for being rude to the stranger.

"Really now, then why is it the two of you can't look me in the eye?" Chris's eyes searched theirs for a reaction and got none. "God this is just so weird. I'm sorry I don't know how to handle this. I don't know how to make this right for you two."

"No one is expecting you to make this right for us Chris. We're all going to need some time to make the adjustment, right Dad. Sam said looking over at his father. John got up suddenly and headed to the door.

"Listen it's the middle of the night. How about we continue this conversation in the morning after we get some sleep." He said at he looked back at Sam sitting on his bed. Chris, knowing he was getting the brush off, nodded dryly.

"I'm not going anywhere." He said as he sat back on the bed he had been sleeping on before. John motioned for Sam to follow him outside leaving Chris a little stunned at the sudden turn of the conversation.

"Keep an eye on him, and don't let him go anywhere." John said before turning to head over to his room next door.

"I will don't worry." Sam said shaking his head at the obviousness of his fathers command. Heading back inside he saw Chris laying on top the covers, hands folded behind his head.

"Ever had one of those days." Chris said staring at the ceiling before closing his eyes in a vain attempt to fall asleep.

"Everyday for 23 years." Sam answered back. His heart jumped when he saw Chris laying there on the bed just like Dean would have. "You don't mind if I stay up and try to do some research on my laptop? I'll put it away if it's gonna keep you up."

"Knock yourself out Sam. I probably won't be able to sleep anyway." Chris replied trying to get comfortable on the bed.

"Chris I know you don't know us, but I think I can answer for my Dad as well as myself. I'm sorry this happened this way. My Dad….we're all he has left. He had to try something…." Sam started to apologized but Chris cut him off.

"It's okay, your fathers' right. It's the middle of the night and we can discuss this again in the morning." He said before rolling over on his side and facing the wall. Despite thinking he wouldn't be able to sleep, Chris was soon snoring softly within a few minutes. Sam watched as the man fell asleep trying to reconcile what was happening to his family. After spending the next few hours doing research, Sam began yawning and decided he needed to get some sleep as well. Falling on the bed next to his _brother_ he was dead to the world in a matter of moments.

Unaware they were not alone in the room, both men remained sound asleep until the next morning.

Tbc

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Authors note: Thanks for reading folks. I've already written the next chapter but I think I'm gonna wait a few days to post it. I know I'm a cruel bitch, but what can I say. Hit the purple button please and let me know what you think and thanks again.


	3. Starting All Over

Chapter 3: Starting all over.

Chris got up early the next morning before Sam awoke and got ready for his normal morning jog. He couldn't find any running clothes in Dean's duffle bag on the floor so he settled for a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. Not thinking to leave a note, he took off for his _usual_ 5 mile run. At first it was hard to find his stride. At 5'9 Chris was used to the rhythm and gait of his own body. Dean was taller, and with his longer legs, it took Chris about half a mile to find his new stride. Breathing was also a struggle. Chris found himself winded after only 3 miles. Stopping for a moment to catch his breath he decided to walk the rest of the way back to the motel. Walking past a convenience store he stopped in to buy the morning paper, glad that he remembered to grab a buck from Dean's wallet. Another thing he had to feel weird about. He felt like a thief going though Dean's wallet but what choice did he have, his own wallet was still in his back pocket…

'_Somewhere in the morgue by now.'_ Chris thought to himself. He suddenly had a vision of his wife getting the call and her reaction to his death.

"Marybeth." He whispered her name cringing at how strange her name sounded with his new voice. He walked slowly back to the motel lost in his thoughts of his wife and the life they had together. As he approached the motel room, the door suddenly flew open and an angry John Winchester stood there, eyes blazing.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded as Chris walk in the room looking at the two of them. Sam stood by the door as well fear clearly on his face. John slammed the door and spun around.

"What the hell is your problem? I went for a run." Chris answered annoyed not realizing why they were reacting the way they were.

"You went for a what? Uh, you never leave this room without telling us where you're going to you understand that young man?" John was adamant but Chris's reaction was not what they were expecting.

"Listen, I'm not sure how you're used to talking to your son but that crap won't fly with me John. I may have his body, against my will I might add, but you just can't tell me what I can and can not do. I've been on my own since I was 16 and I'll come and go as I damn well please." He replied getting up in John's face. They stared, challenging each other to back down. Chris saw John curled his hand up wanting to hit him and dared him to do it. Sam jumped up between them and pulled his father back.

"Chris it's just, when I woke up and found you gone…..I don't know…I got scared. Dad and I thought someone had taken you." He pushed John back further as they continued to glare at each other.

"What? Taken by whom?" Chris shook his head and now stared at Sam. "This isn't more of this voodoo crap is it? What the hell are you two into anyway?"

"What we're into is none of your business, but keeping that body safe is." John gestured at Chris to make his point. "If you do anything, and I mean anything, to harm my son's body, I'll rip you out of there myself."

"I want to see you try, because from where I'm standing I'm getting the short end of this deal. If you have a way of 'ripping me out' as you so delicately put it, then go ahead. Trust me I have no desire to live the rest of my life in someone else's body. So do your voodoo, or what ever the hell you need to do and let's end this right now." Chris yelled back inching forward towards John again.

Once again Sam had to push his father back.

"Dad, Chris, stop it you two! Dad go take a walk. Chris go stand over there." Sam mediated, pointing to the opposite side of the room.

"Yeah John go take a walk." Chris spat out as he moved across the room.

"You son of a bitch, don't you dare call me John."

"Well what the hell am I suppose to call you, because I'm sure as hell not going to call you 'Dad'?" Chris stood and looked back angrily at John. Sam quickly pushed John towards the door and pulled it open.

"Go!" he ordered, pushing John out the door. "Dad go cool off. If you keep pushing his buttons like that he'll take off on us and we'll never find him again."

"That's never going to happen, Sammy. That man does not leave this room do you understand me?" John leaned in as he spoke and the two of them looked back inside at Chris. "I'm gonna make some calls and then we're going figure out how to get your brother back."

"Yes sir." Sam nodded. He watched his father walk off, and headed back inside. His heart in his throat, he was grateful John's anger wasn't directed towards him as it had been so many times in the past.

"Christ, now I know how Dean felt every time he had to get between us." He said not realizing he was speaking out loud.

"Wow your father is some piece of work. Does he always act like that when he doesn't get his way?" Chris was still angry as he paced around the room.

"Well he isn't used to Dean challenging him, that's for sure" Sam laughed sadly to himself. "That's always been my job. My brother was the one that always had to break us up."

"Well I'm not Dean and I'm sure as hell not going to sit here and be ordered around like some kid. If he thinks, well hell, if you both think I'm just going to stay here you are both sadly mistaken. I have a life I need to get back too. I need to talk to Marybeth, where's the phone…" he started to look around before he suddenly stopped and dropped to the bed. "Jesus what hell am I going to do? I can't call her, not now."

"Who's Marybeth?" Sam asked curiously, seeing tears suddenly well up in Chris's eyes.

"My wife." Chris pretended to rub his eyes as he wiped away a stray tear.

"Jesus I forgot, I'm so sorry, you mentioned her back at the museum." Sam said forgetting about the man's request as he lay dying back at the museum.

"13 years, we got married in college and last night was our anniversary. She bought me this silly, ugly tie as a joke, knowing how much I hate wearing them. My luck, she'll give it to the funeral people to bury me in. Jesus what kind of anniversary present did I give her? 'Hi honey, guess what… I got myself ripped to shreds for our anniversary. Happy lucky 13.' " Sarcasm and grief echoed in Chris's voice. Looking over at Sam he noticed the pained look on his face.

"Hey I'm sorry….black humor….can't help myself." Chris apologized not knowing he had touched a nerve with his humor.

"My brother does that too."

"Does what?"

"Cracks jokes every time things get a little to hard to deal with." Sam looked over and saw the other man's blue eyes soften.

"I'm sorry kid. I didn't mean anything by it." he got up and move across the room to where Sam was sitting. His heart still racing, Chris sat down at the table and started to read the paper he had just bought. He was about to start reading the front page when his attention was diverted to the television Sam had just flipped on. The local news had started and the very first story they were talking about was the news report about Chris's murder.

**_Teacher found murdered at Danvers_**

_A Parks Junior High School teacher was found murdered shortly after closing last night at the Danvers Museum for Fine Arts. Museum officials say that Christopher Eddings, 34, who work part time as a museum guide, was found slashed to death by security officers shortly after 9:00 last night. Police are giving few details only asking anyone with any information to contact them immediately_. _Mr. Eddings who taught 8th grade…_

Sam tried to shut off the TV as soon as he realized what they were talking about but it was too late. Chris sat stunned staring at the TV, a horrified look in his face, as the image of his body under a sheet was shown on the screen before it went blank again. Sam felt immediate compassion for the man.

"Chris I'm so sorry," Sam really was sorry. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I need some air." Chris said getting up and heading for the door.

"Uhh Dad said you couldn't leave." Sam said jumping up as well, blocking the door. "Don't make me have to stop you, Chris."

"Not you too kid. I can't stay here another moment. Jesus I just want to go home. I have to see Marybeth. I need to make sure she's okay." Sam could hear the desperation in his voice as he watched the older man sink to the floor, leaning back against blocked door.

Sam sank down beside him, not sure how to comfort him. Chris dropped his head into his hands and his shoulders began to shake as the last 24 hours began to finally sink in.

"I can't go home can I?" he asked looking back at Sam. Sam sadly shook his head no. While Sam had lost a brother, a tragedy he hadn't yet accepted, Chris had lost his entire life. Sam knew there weren't words adequate enough to console him. They sat that way for a short while longer until Chris wiped his face and started to get up.

"I'm sorry Sam." He said slightly embarrassed that he would appear so unmanly in front of a stranger.

"It's okay Chris. If anyone has a reason to break down I think it's you." He said taking the hand Chris lowered to help him up.

"So do you Sam, I mean you did lose your brother in a sense. I remember what it was like when I lost my family. I'd completely understand if you want to take some time and, you know. We don't have to tell your father. We'll just keep it between us."

"It's different for me Chris. Every time I look over at you, I think for that one instant that you are my brother, and it's like I haven't lost him. My head says he's gone but my heart is having a really hard time accepting it. Part of me that hopes someday we can still get my brother back…" He stopped short realizing there was only one way of doing that. If Dean's spirit still existed somewhere, and they were able to return it to his rightful body, Chris would have to vacate it first and there was only one way he could vacate it….he would have to die.

Chris nodded grimly. He too had figured that was the only way. Sam looked away desperate to find a way to change the subject. Getting up he walked to the kitchenette and started to make some coffee.

"It's ok Sam, I understand. I know what it's like to miss someone so much you would be willing to do almost anything to keep them here. I guess I _do_ understand why your father did what he did. I can't tell you how many times I wished my family was still around, but unfortunately they died along time ago."

"You mentioned that a minute ago. If you don't mind me asking, how _did_ your family die?" Sam winced as soon as he asked the question, his curiosity getting the better of him.

'_Damn it Sammy, isn't Chris upset enough without you bringing up another painful memory._' Sam said to himself watching as the coffee started to brew. Chris saw Sam squirming and decided to cut him some slack.

"It's okay Sam, I don't mind talking about it. Pour me a cup of that coffee and I'll tell you whatever you want to know." A few minutes later they settled at the table with their coffee and Chris started to talk.

Tbc

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Authors note: I apologize for this chapter being shorter than the others. I don't know why but this chapter was harder than the others to write. I know there wasn't much action but I needed to develop Chris a little bit further. When I started, my original vision of Chris was not what jumped out on my computer as I typed. He was suppose to be more innocent, quieter, and unassuming, someone they were going to have to protect. Then I realized when you are dealing with Winchesters you have to be able to hold your own. Chris isn't used to someone making decisions for him, so he and John are gonna knock heads more than a few times I think. Anyway, thanks for reading and leave a review if you so desire.


	4. Chris’s story

Authors note: I first and foremost want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story. I really wasn't sure I was going to continue writing after my last fic. You have renewed my faith as a writer and I greatly appreciate it.

Secondly, I know a few of you Dean girls are waiting patiently for Dean to make an appearance in this story. I hate to tell you, but you still have to wait till the next chapter. Just a little longer I promise.

XoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooX

Chapter 4: Chris's story.

"When I was 12, my family was involved in a car accident. My Mom and Dad, and my little sister Stacy, were all killed when a drunk driver hit us head on in his delivery van. Bystanders were able to pull me and my brother Jerry out, but the car was on fire and they weren't able to get to the others. Jerry's burns were so severe he only survived a few days after the accident and I guess that was a blessing. I got to spend 3 months in the hospital recovering from my injuries. Between the broken bones and the burns on my legs, I was quite a mess, or so they tell me. I really don't remember much of what happened afterwards. I guess you could say I've blocked it out." Chris grimaced involuntarily as he struggled with the few memories he did have of his stay in the hospital.

"Can't say that I blame you Chris. It must have been horrible to wake up and find your family gone like that." Sam said looking over at Chris sadly.

"I hope you never find out Sam." Chris said looking back, his blue eyes glassy with tears.

"What happened to you when you got out of the hospital?" Sam asked pretending he didn't notice.

"After I got out, I was sent to live with my Aunt and Uncle, but that only lasted a few months."

"Why only a few months?" Sam asked trying not to pry.

"They had five kids of their own and it was really hard on them financially, with my medial bills and all. My folks had life some life insurance, but my bills and therapy ate that up pretty fast. The guy that hit us had some insurance and my Aunt and Uncle thought about suing him but I told them I didn't want them to. I just didn't want to have to deal with it any more, you know. Once the money ran out my Aunt and Uncle didn't have much choice. They passed me off to another relative and another until I finally ended up living with my grandmother in Pennsylvania. Finally I had a place I could call home again. A year after she took me in she died of a sudden heart attack. Since I was only 14 at the time I was put into foster care." Chris explained.

"Jesus." Sam whispered under his breath. One of Sam's earliest and most frequent nightmares had been ending up in foster care and being separated from his brother. "Nobody wanted to take you back?"

"No, by that time I was running wild. I didn't listen to anyone except my grandmother. I was skipping school, smoking, just being a little ass, you know, angry as hell. Foster care only made it worse. I hated being the odd man out, never actually part of the family, especially when it came to holidays. Birthdays were always the worst. One of the families I was left with didn't want to celebrate a birthday for a kid that wasn't theirs. At my last foster home, there were 3 of us kids there and the parents just took us in for the money. You know the type, the kind of people that give foster parents a bad name. So many good people in the world who would kill to love and care for a child and I had to end up with the Craig's. If Mr. Craig wasn't beating up on his wife, he was beating up on us kids. I put up with it for almost a year before I decided I didn't want to be a punching bag anymore. I packed up what little I had and took off." Chris continued lost in thought.

"What you do after that?" Sam was amazed. He knew what his life was like when he was 16 but he had his older brother looking out for him when things got bad. Chris had to do it all by himself.

"First couple of months were rough. I thought about going home, but I figured who would have me at this point. I hitch hiked around for a few months until I ended up in Oklahoma City. I knew I didn't want to live on the streets so I looked around until I found this abandoned house and started crashing there. I decided I wanted to go back to school, so I called the local high school, pretended to be my father, and got myself enrolled as a student."

"So what did you do for money, I mean you had to eat and stuff." Sam asked his eyes never leaving the older man's.

"I got a job after school. Let's see my first job was at a movie theater. That was cool but I got fired for eating too much popcorn." He smiled at that memory.

"Then I tried fast food restaurants but I hated smelling like grease after work all the time. I ended up working in a grocery store which wasn't too bad. Unbelievably, I was able to pull off my junior and was half way through my senior year when one of my teachers discovered where I was living. He reported me to the school board and they tried to expel me. Once my story got around another teacher, Mr. Glade, stepped up and said I could live with him and his wife so I could stay in school long enough to graduate. I started to save money because I got this wild idea that my Mom would have wanted me to go to college. Of course I didn't have a snow balls chance in hell financially, but the Glades offered to help me out. I didn't want to take their money but they were very insistent." Chris said lost with a sad smile on his face.

"Wow, they really saved your life didn't they." Sam said glad that Chris finally had someone that helped him out though it sounded weird hearing the story come from his brother's mouth.

"Yeah, for the first couple months I expected them to have some sort of ulterior motive. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop but it never did. The Glades are the best. Since they never had children of their own, they unofficially adopted me instead. I can't tell you how it feels to have people who loved me again, especially after the Craig's. I think that's why I became a teacher. It's kinda of my way of repaying them for all they did for me." Chris stopped and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"I never had a chance to say goodbye to them either."

Sam sat stunned, unable to come up with words to console this man who had had more than his fair share of tragedy in his life. Chris looked over, saw his discomfort, and changed the subject.

"Hey listen to me sounding like a really bad episode of Oprah. I don't know about you but I'm starving. Do you think John would be okay if we went somewhere to get a bite to eat?" he asked quickly changing the subject. Sam laughed as he rubbed his own empty stomach.

"I think we'll be able to talk him into it. It's either we go get something to eat or we're forced to go outside and eat the Impala and I don't think Dean would appreciate that." Sam stopped as he suddenly realized that for the first time he was acknowledging the man across from him wasn't his brother. He and Chris looked at each other for a moment before he spoke again.

"Let me give Dad a call and let him know what we're doing." Sam said as he stood up and pulled out his cell phone.

"I'm gonna go wash up then." Chris said as he headed to the bathroom. As Chris looked in the mirror he swore he saw something standing behind him in the bathroom. Spinning around, he shook his head as he failed to find anything there. Minutes later he came out to find Sam standing by the door waiting for him.

"I take it your father said it was okay." He said trying not to sound annoyed for having to ask permission to go out to eat. Sam caught the tone in the other man's voice but chose to ignore it considering the circumstances.

"Yeah just as long as we don't take too long and we bring him back a burger and fries." Sam said as he realized he didn't have the keys to the car.

"What are you looking for?" Chris asked as he watched Sam searching the room for Dean's keys.

"The keys to the car…Ummmm… Dean would have had them in is pocket." stricken Sam realized Dean's keys would be in the pocket of his bloodied jacket that he and his father had pulled off Chris when they laid him down on the bed. He walked over to the bed and picked the jacket off the floor holding it gingerly before reaching inside and pulling out the keys. Sam stood for a moment and looked down at the keys, his hands shaking slightly before he got them under control. Chris turned the other way to give Sam some privacy incase the younger man wanted to have a moment to mourn his brother.

"Let's go." Sam said with a lump in his throat. Chris nodded and followed Sam out to the car. So lost in thought they both walked over to the passenger side and stood there looking at each other as they realized what they had done.

"I'm sorry Sam, I just assumed you'd be driving." Chris said as he saw the look on Sam's face.

"Old habit I guess. Dean always hated to let me drive his baby." Sam said sadly as he turned around and walked over to the driver's side.

"So this was Dean's car? I have to credit him with good taste then because this one is a beauty. My first car was a 1970 Chevelle, V8, deep forest green." Chris said as he sat down admiring the interior of the car. "He really kept this baby up."

Sam smiled when he saw Chris's eyes light up as he admired the car. Once again he felt weird that the person next to him would look so much like his brother, at times behave like him, and not _be_ him. Sam started the car and headed to the diner down the street where they had eaten when they first got into town.

Without bothering to look at the menu, Sam ordered a cheeseburger with the works for his father and a chili burger for himself when they got to the counter. Not knowing what they served, Chris reached over to flip the menu open and looked up and down until he found something he could eat.

"I'll take the tuna sandwich, and a side salad, thousand island dressing please." He said to the waitress who wrote it down on the same slip as Sam's order. Suddenly Sam started to laugh. Giving Sam a 'wtf' look, Chris quickly realized he was ordering something that Dean probably never would.

"Umm I hate to tell you this but I'm a vegetarian." He said to an astonished Sam.

"Holy crap." Sam said as he started to laugh even harder. "Dean wouldn't eat a salad if it was the last food on earth. But you eat fish, isn't that against the rules too."

"I never said I was a good vegetarian. Mostly I just stayed away from red meat." Chris explained unable to stop himself from joining Sam in laughing at the situation. "It's something Marybeth got us into a few years ago. She said we would live longer…..."

Suddenly he stopped.

"I guess it doesn't really matter now does it." he said as he looked over at the now solemn Sam. Sam gave him a sad nod and they stood there silently until their food was brought over to them. Back at the motel, Sam knocked on his father's door, before heading back into their room. Within minutes John joined them and sat at the table giving Sam a look when he saw what Chris was eating.

"Dad, Chris is a vegetarian." Sam explained laughing as John almost choked on his burger.

"Oh god don't tell me you're a tree hugger too." He said shooting Chris a glare as he swallowed his food.

"Guilty as charged. Tree hugger, vegetarian, democrat, pro choice, lets see, what else can I tell you about myself that will piss you off." Chris said his voice challenging John once again.

"I don't care about any of that other crap, tell me how you feel about hunting." John challenged back.

"You mean hunting animals for sport. I would have to say I'm totally against that, John. Now hunting animals for food, well that's something else." Chris answered truthfully knowing how John would respond to his answer.

"Pretty hypocritical view for someone who claims to be a vegetarian." John retorted.

"Like I told Sam earlier, I'm not a very good vegetarian. Besides my father used to take my brother and I hunting every deer season when we were younger. I always looked forward to spending that time with my dad and my brother, you know us guys just hangin out. I really missed it after they died."

"So he taught you how to shoot a rifle then eh?" he said satisfied with Chris's answer. Briefly John remembered the few times he had taken his own sons deer hunting when money got really tight.

"Yeah why?" Chris asked confused by John's question.

"Cuz we're short a hunter and you might have to fill his shoes." John said looking at Chris and a very shocked Sam.

Tbc

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Authors note: I couldn't resist…..my first car was also a 1970 Chevelle that my parents bought brand new and my sister and I drove into the ground once we got old enough to drive. 15 yrs and 200,000 miles later we finally left it at the junk yard, dented, rusted, with torn up upholstery and very much loved. Ahh the memories. It's still my favorite car. Thanks for reading.


	5. Wanting to Go Home

Chapter 5: Wanting to go home.

'_Cuz we're short a hunter and you might have to fill his shoes.'_

All night long that one line kept echoing in Chris's mind. What the hell did John mean by that? Just when he thought he had it figured out something else started echoing in his head. Someone was calling him by name. Someone who's voice was strangely familiar.

"_Chris."_

He woke up and looked around the dark room convinced there was someone there calling his name, but all he could see was Sam asleep in the bed next to his. He walked to the bathroom and splashed cold water on _his_ face. He stood at the mirror and stared at the face he was going to have to live with for the rest of his life. Some one else's face. Suddenly he realized whose voice he heard in his head. It was Dean's. He started to chuckle to himself and realized if he didn't stop he was going to seriously lose it.

"Christ it's not bad enough I'm stuck in his body now I have to have him stuck in my head too." Chris said to himself and he wiped the water off his face with a towel. Leaning on the sink he hung his head and took a moment to regain his composure. "You can do this, just don't look in the mirror anymore and you'll be fine."

As he headed back to his bed, something caught his eye in the shadows of the corner near the kitchen table. Taking a step towards it he watched it disappear.

"Dean?" he asked to the silent room knowing without hearing the answer who that shadow was.

"_Yeah man, just checkin on my brother." _The voice answered inside his head. Chris took a deep breath and nodded. _"Just go back to sleep."_

"I don't think that's likely to happen anytime soon." Chris took another look into the dark corner before lying back down on the bed. "I take it you plan on sticking around?"

"_Yeah I ain't goin anywhere. Guess you're stuck with me for a while." _

"Great. Well you're Dad and Sam will be happy to hear that. I'm not sure I'm happy to have you roaming around in my head but what the hell." Chris said as he stared up at the ceiling.

"_I'm sorry," _He heard Dean say. _"but I kinda don't have a choice."_

"It's not your fault." Chris answered and then stopped when he realized what Dean was alluding to.

"Oh…. It's because of me isn't it?"

"_It's not your fault either but yeah, we're kinda bound together I guess."_

"So as long as I'm around, you're around?" Chris asked already knowing the answer.

"_Yeah something like that."_

"You're not gonna start singing 'Henry the 8th, I am I am' cuz if you are, I'll just kill myself right now and end the agony?" Chris asked sarcastically referencing the movie Ghost that Marybeth had forced him to watch repeatedly. He could hear Dean laughing in his head.

"_No dude, I'm not that cruel. I just want to keep tabs on my family. I just want to make sure they're all right, you know, with this whole me being dead thing."_

"Your brother seems to be handling it well, but then again it's hard to tell since I don't really know him that well. From what I've seen so far, I think he's deeply, deeply entrenched in a complete state of denial. Your father…. I'm not sure what he thinks. I know whenever he looks at me he's angry as hell. I just can't tell if he angry at me or angry at himself for creating this mess. I can tell it must be hard for them to look at me knowing I'm not you. Me, I don't how I'm not freaking out. I keep looking in the mirror and seeing a total stranger looking back at me." Chris closed his eyes and tried to stop the anger he could feel starting to build up again.

"_I'd say I'm sorry for what my father did, but I don't think you want to hear that right now."_

Chris nodded and stayed silent. Not wanting to continue his conversation with Dean, he finally rolled over to his side and forced himself to go back to sleep choosing to disregard Dean's final words in his head.

"_I'm sorry anyways."_

The next morning after another heated discussion between Chris and John, Chris was allowed to go for his morning run again with the stipulation that Sam run with him. Once again he stopped for a newspaper before heading back to the motel. Sitting at the table he opened the Lifestyles section of the paper and flipped the pages until he found the obituaries. Scanning the pages he stopped as he found his own, and started reading it with mixed emotions.

"Jesus, Chris why are you doing this to yourself?" Sam said as soon as he saw what Chris was reading.

"I want to know what time my funeral starts." He answered Sam flipping the paper shut. "It says here the service starts at 2:00.

"You're kidding right. Please don't tell me you want to go to your own funeral?" Sam stared back at Chris.

"No, I don't want to go to my funeral, I just wanted to find out what time it started so I could go over to my house to get some of my things." Chris explained to an even more shocked Sam

"Ummmm… You want to break into your own house on the day of your funeral. What the hell is so important that you're willing to get arrested for breaking and entering?" Sam asked eyes wide at the prospect of telling his father what Chris had in mind.

"My clothes for one thing. I mean I have to credit Dean for his unique style of clothing but this is not how I usually dress." Chris said pointing to the AC/DC t-shirt and the torn jeans he was currently wearing. "Lets say I dress a little more, ummm professional."

"_Hey what's wrong with what I wear?" _Dean's voice echoed inside Chris's head_ "That's my favorite t-shirt._

Chris rolled his eyes and ignored him.

"Oh god tell me you don't normally dress in a suit and tie." Sam said jokingly becoming alarmed. Just envisioning Dean in a suit was enough for him to make a face and snicker.

"Not quite that professional. Usually a polo shirt and Dockers maybe, a button down shirt or two, no ties I promise. I do own jeans, they just don't have as many holes in them as you brother has in his." He laughed as well when he saw the face Sam made.

"Well in our line of work, payment for services rendered is pretty scarce. Dean usually made us money off of playing pool or credit card…." Sam stopped before he said too much. "Anyway, growing up we never had a lot of money so our clothes had to last as long as they could. Hence the ripped jeans and faded t-shirts look. It ain't much but they fit in a duffle bag in a hurry and we don't care if they get wrinkled." Sam explained trying not to be insulted knowing Chris didn't really mean anything by his comment.

"Sam I'm not saying what you guys wear is wrong, it works for you, I'm saying I'm used to a different style. I just don't feel like myself in these clothes." Chris stopped and started to laugh hysterically. "Guess that sounded really weird considering the circumstances didn't it?"

"Yeah I know there are moments I forget too." Sam said slapping Chris on the shoulder. "It's weird, you look, and sound exactly like him, yet for the most part I can totally tell you apart."

"_That's cuz he doesn't have my sparkling personality." _Dean's spoke to Sam even though he knew his brother couldn't hear him. Once again Chris felt compelled to observe the comment with an eye roll.

"Another thing Sam, I feel really weird carrying around Dean's wallet and cell phone. I think I would feel a whole lot better if I had my own." Chris pulled Dean's phone and wallet out of his pocket and held them out for Sam.

"Well you might as well keep Dean's phone, I know for sure Dad won't spring for a new one. I think you're gonna have to consider your old phone and your own wallet a total loss. Your wife probably got them back with your effects from the morgue." Sam said as he took Dean's wallet and looked at it sadly. He quickly stuffed it in his own pocket unable to bear to open it up in front of Chris.

"It's okay if you're having a hard time dealing with this, Sam? Lord knows I know have a clue as to how I'm keeping it together." Chris asked when he saw Sam's reaction to his brother's wallet. "I think your father must be having a hard time as well by the way he keeps ordering me around like I'm in the Army or something. Since he can't control the situation, he thinks he can control me."

"Not Army, Marines." Sam answered, trying to explain the idiosyncrasies of his father, as Chris gave him a confused look. "My father used to be a Marine. He thinks that if he makes us listen to his orders he will some how be able to protect us better. Disobey him and POW…..well lets just say you don't disobey John Winchester."

"_That's right, nobody messes with Dad."_

"Well guess what, I'm not one of his Marines." Chris said adamantly shaking his head. "Speaking of your father, let's not say anything to him about me wanting to head over to my house today okay?"

"I don't know Chris, I think he will notice the Impala is gone and then he will demand to know what we were up to when we got back. If you think he's angry with you now, just imagine how angry he will be if he finds out you went behind his back." Sam said giving Chris a worried looking just imagining how his father would react.

"But I'm not going behind his back. Jesus Sam, I just want to go home and get some of my things. You people can't keep me here, I'm not your hostage. Sooner or later you're gonna have to let me leave. I know you want to hang on to your brother but damn it, I'm not him and I'm not going to hang around here forever."

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I let you get out of our sight." Johns steely voice answered as he crept in the room with out either man noticing.

"What are you going to do start tying me to a chair or to my bed every night?" Chris asked as he glared back at John.

"If that's what it takes." John coldly answered. Sam looked back and forth between both men trying to judge who was going to attack first.

"I want to see you try that John. You seem to think you'll be able to win this war. Why don't we give it a go and see who really wins cuz I'm not goin down without a fight?" Chris tensed up and balled his hands into tight fists as he stepped forward. Without a warning John pulled out his gun and pointed it straight at Chris's head. Chris hesitated but he didn't flinch at the sight of the gun aimed at him.

"Jesus Christ Dad, what the hell are you doing? Sam yelled jumping up and knocking his fathers arm down. "This is Dean Dad."

"No he isn't son. We don't know who this person is but he sure as hell isn't your brother." John glared back at his son before aiming his gun back at Chris.

"Yeah and whose fault is that John." Chris shouted at him.

"Dad stop, he's not a demon, you can't just shoot him. If you shoot him we lose whatever chance we have of getting Dean back." Sam yelled trying to get through to his father. John hesitated as Sam's words hit him like a ton of bricks. Lowering the weapon he looked at Sam with tears in his eyes.

"I really screwed up didn't I, son. It should have worked….I said the right words…I checked it over and over again. I don't know why it didn't work." Setting the gun on the table, John sank down on a kitchen chair and dropped his head into his hands. "Dean…."

Chris backed down as well when he saw the elder Winchester fall apart in front of him. Sam shot Chris a look of worry as he watched his father begin to grieve for his brother. Chris returned the look not knowing if he could comfort the elder Winchester, or even if his help was wanted. He suddenly he heard Dean's voice in his head again.

"_Tell him I'm still here. Tell him I'm standing right in front of him."_

"Dean's still here." He said not sure if they would believe him or not. Both John and Sam whipped their heads his way in disbelief. John reached for his gun again convinced that Chris was playing a cruel joke on them.

"I'm not lying, I'm not lying. He's here, right now…." Chris started to quickly explain.

"Like hell…" John said his eyes blazing again.

"Dad, don't, let's hear what he has to say." Sam said hope rising in his heart again.

"Last night, I got up to go to the bathroom, when I came back I saw something. It was some sort of shadow over here in the corner." Chris waved his hand to the corner behind Sam. "I started to hear this voice in my head. At first I thought I was really losing it but then I realized it was Dean. He's really here John, I swear to god. He said he wanted to make sure you were both okay."

"What else did he say?" John demanded still skeptical of Chris's story.

"He said because of what happened, because I'm still alive inside his body, we're, how did he put it, bound together. He can't leave." Chris explained further to the two stunned Winchesters.

"I haven't noticed lights flickering, and I haven't felt any cold spots yet Dad but could what he's saying be true? Could Chris and Dean really be bound together like that?" Sam asked his eyes wide with hope.

John looked over at Chris wanting to believe his son could still be around. Even though the man in front of him was a stranger, he could tell by his eyes Chris was telling the truth. He chided himself after all his years of experience, for thinking for a moment his son couldn't return to them. Looking back at Sam he saw what he was starting to feel in his own heart…hope. That quickly returned to anger when he remembered what they were talking about when he walked into the room.

"Just because I'm starting to believe you doesn't me I'm gonna trust you. Now what's this I hear about you wanting to sneak back into your own home?"

Tbc

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Authors Note: Ah another chapter knocked out. Hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading and please let me know if you liked it.


	6. Homecoming

Chapter 6: Homecoming.

"I'm not gonna be breaking in, we keep a spare key by the garage." Chris said quickly explaining what he wanted to do before John could jump down his throat further. "I just want to grab a few things, some jeans, shirts, and my jacket.

"Chris, how tall are you?" John asked realizing what Chris hadn't yet.

"I'm 5'9 why?" Chris asked still got getting what John was alluding to.

"You won't fit into your clothes anymore." John said with a grim look in his face. "Dean's taller and I suspect has a bit more weight on his body then you did. None of your clothes are going to fit."

"Jesus I didn't even think about that Chris." Sam said when he saw the disappointment on the other man's face. "Dad maybe we can get Chris some new clothes, you know, so he can dress like he's used to."

"Moneys tight right now son, sorry Chris, but you're gonna have to get used to Dean's stuff for the time being."

"This just keeps getting better and better." Chris muttered bitterly.

"_I could have told you that Chris."_ Chris ignored Dean's voice in his head, but had to smile when he heard what followed. _"But damn if burlap wouldn't look good on this body."_

"Maybe I can grab my poker money!" He suddenly exclaimed remembering his stash of 'ill gotten gains' back at the house.

"_Poker eh? What do you guys play for… chalk?"_

"What?" John and Sam both asked at the same time.

"Once a month I get together with a couple of other teachers at my school and we play a friendly game of poker. I usually stick my winnings in an envelope in my desk at home. Last time I looked I had around $500.00 in there." Chris started to laugh, "I was saving up to buy a big screen HDTV. If I could just get inside my house, I could grab my cash and that way you wouldn't have to spend any of your own precious money on me."

John shot Chris a glare but stayed silent as he mulled the request.

"What about your wife? I'm assuming she isn't aware of your winnings or else she would have spent the money already." He asked as he considered it

"You're right about that. I always tell her I lost what I took and sat out the rest of the hands. She knows I'm lying but hey, she loves me and lets me get away with it. I keep it in my desk drawer, underneath my, um…men's magazines. I can slip in, grab the money, and be out before any one sees anything." Chris smiled as he remembered his wife pretending to give him a hard time every time he went off to his poker games.

"_Men's magazines eh? Why don't you grab those too?"_

"You say there's around $500.00 there?" John asked thinking about how _he_ could spend that money.

"More or less, I haven't really counted it in the last few weeks. Do we have a deal or what?" Chris eyed John confident that John was going to approve his plan.

"In and out. We won't have time for you to get all sentimental about stuff. Just grab your money and get the hell out of there." John nodded, but then stopped to warn Chris when he saw his face light up. "I'm serious Chris, we can't have you wandering around remembering your old life. It's not like we can tell them the truth if you get caught inside the house."

"I understand John, you don't have to tell me twice." Chris responded annoyed once again at John's tone and even more annoyed at Dean when he started humming the Mission Impossible theme.

A few hours later the trio pulled up in front of Chris's house and parked across the street. Looking at the house they were shocked to discover people roaming around inside.

"Son of a bitch." Chris swore as he saw more cars pull up to the house.

"_Crap!"_

"I thought you said your funeral was at 2:00?" Sam said looking at his watch realizing it was only 2:45

"I did, what the hell? I don't know about you but every funeral I've ever been too has lasted at least an hour. Just my luck, my wife decides to give me the quickie funeral." He said chuckling to himself nervously. He looked over and watched as friends and neighbors showed up and entered his home.

"This isn't going to work, there's too many people." John said his hands tight on the steering wheel of the truck.

"I don't know why it can't Dad. Yeah sure there are more people, but I bet most of them are in the living room or dining room. He still could sneak down the hall to his bedroom and get his money. You and I could distract anyone who thought to follow him. He could pretend to use the bathroom or something." Sam offered a different plan.

Just then Chris gasped as he looked over at the front porch to see his wife coming outside with one of his coworkers. Obviously distressed Marybeth stood lost in her grief not knowing her husband was mere feet away trying not to jump out of the truck and run to her side.

"Marybeth…." He whispered as he looked over at her.

"_Damn…" _

"Damn…" Sam said unknowingly echoing Dean, looking over at his father. Even John sympathized for the young man seeing his wife for the first time since his 'death'.

"I want to talk to her. I want to make sure she's okay." Chris said his voice filled with pain

"Not a good idea, Chris. Now we agreed you were going to be in and out. The situation has changed and I don't think you should be anywhere near that house." John said about ready the throw the truck in gear and leave without the money. Chris started to protest but he saw the look on John's face and realized he wasn't going to win this battle.

"You're staying in the truck. I'm not taking any chances in that house to you hear me? Sam will go to your bedroom and grab that envelope and I'll pay my respects and keep your wife occupied." John adamantly spoke. Chris looked back at the house as his friend left and his wife reentered their home.

Relenting, knowing there was too much at risk, Chris nodded sadly and continued to stare at the porch his wife had just been standing on. Finally they all got out of the truck, the Winchesters wordlessly heading over to the house leaving Chris behind. Chris leaned back against the truck and watched as John and Sam walked up the sidewalk to his front door. Sam reached over to push the doorbell and together they waited until Marybeth opened the door.

"Marybeth" Chris said out loud again as he watched the trio go back inside the house. Through the sheers he could see the others inside the house and was glad his wife wasn't alone. So lost in his longing to see his wife he didn't realize he had left the side of the truck and crossed the street to stand on this own porch. Compelled, unable to help himself, he peered through the window seeking his wife out. He saw his in-laws sitting on his sofa and his wife walking into the living room with the Winchesters. Friends and members of his wife's family came in and out of the living room, some bringing coffee and other drinks for the guests. Minutes passed as Chris continued to stare, his heart beating wildly. He noticed Sam had excused himself and left the group presumably to go down the hall. Suddenly the front door flew open as one of Marybeth's cousins came out on the porch.

"Sorry I didn't realize anyone was waiting here. I hope you weren't standing out here too long. I guess no one heard the door bell." Initially startled, she gave Chris a quick smile and invited him in not having a clue as to who he really was. Momentarily panicked, Chris hesitated not sure what to do.

"Marybeth is in the living room. I'm sure she would love to see you." The cousin continued as she touched Chris's arm and led him into the home. Chris gave her a smile and thanked her. She smiled back and continued back out the door. Chris's heart was now in his throat. His body refused to move as he stood in the foyer of his house. Sam came out of the bedroom at the end of the hall and saw Chris standing there just as Marybeth did. Shocked, Sam tried to get John's attention as she came towards Chris with a sad smile and held out her hand.

"Hi I'm Marybeth, Chris's wife. I'm glad you could make it." she said as she took his hand in hers. Chris all but melted as he felt his wife's warm touch.

"Hi my name is Dean, I used to work with your husband at the museum." Not prepared, he stammered as he tried to come up with a story. She looked up at him and smiled again.

"A couple of Chris's friends from the museum are already here, you might know them, John and Sam? Why don't you come inside and have a seat." Marybeth offered, turning towards the living room. Still not really in control of his body, Chris took two steps following Marybeth, until he saw John staring at him from the other side of the room.

"Umm Marybeth, I'm sorry but I really can't stay. I just wanted to give my condolences to you since I seemed to have missed the funeral." He said looking around the room as Sam reentered and stood next to John.

"I understand Dean. I'm afraid a lot of his friends did. Unfortunately that's my fault. I change my mind at the last minute and moved the service." She said explaining about the service at the funeral home .

"So you didn't have the service at a church?" Chris asked confused.

"Because of his injuries we didn't have a wake. I thought a nice small gathering, with his urn on the altar in the chapel of the funeral home would be more appropriate for the family. The school has offered to have a memorial service in the gym for all the kids to come to the day after tomorrow ….." Marybeth stopped as Chris started choking.

"Urn... did you say urn?" Chris managed to get out.

"Yes, we had my husband cremated." Marybeth looked at Chris concerned as he suddenly went pale.

"I'm sorry, I have to leave." He said distressed feeling the air leave his lungs.

"I'm sorry was it something I said?" she asked as he spun around and raced for the door. Seeing Chris leave, John and Sam moved through the mourners to follow him. Stopping as his father left after Chris, Sam turned to Marybeth.

"I'm so sorry for you loss." He said before leaving a surprised Marybeth behind. Chris was already at the truck pacing, unable to get inside the locked vehicle. John came roaring out after him, eyes blazing.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he shouted at Chris. Still distraught Chris turned and evaded John's grasp as John made a grab for him.

"Leave me the hell alone, John." He said moving back behind the truck. John followed and once again tried to grab Chris. Chris reacted by decking John square in the jaw, sending the older Winchester flying into the tailgate and on to the ground. Running up, Sam was just in time to help his father off the ground.

"_Damn Chris, you've really done it his time haven't you."_ Chris heard Dean in his head say.

"No way! No way, not you too!" He screamed as he grabbed his head. "Damn it, get the hell out of my head Dean!"

"This is all your damn fault." Chris shouted at John before turned around and taking off in a dead run.

"Sammy go after him!" John ordered his youngest son, rubbing his sore jaw. Sam took off after Chris only to return a few minutes later.

"I'm sorry Dad I lost him." he said winded trying to catch his breath. John pounded his hand on the bed of his truck.

"Son of a bitch Sammy, I knew this was a bad idea. I'm gonna drop you off back at the motel and go looking for him. He can't have gone far." John said as he climbed back inside his truck.

"But Dad I need to go with you. There's no way Chris is going to listen to you and no way he's going to go anywhere with you. I have to be the one that finds him or we won't stand a chance of getting him back." Sam said as he climbed in the passenger seat next to his father. John grimly shook his head realizing his son was right.

"We're gonna get him back and I don't care how we do it." John said adamantly before turning the truck around and heading in the direction that Chris ran off to.

"I'll try calling him. He has Dean's phone." Sam hit Dean's number on speed dial and listened as it rang over and over before going to voice mail. Sam continued to call as John drove up and down the neighborhood. They stopped every now and then to check out various businesses looking for Chris.

"Dad he's still not answering." Sam said glancing over at his angry father once they were back inside the truck.

"Keep trying son." John commanded gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Dad he's, NOT ANSWERING!" Sam shook his head in frustration. "We can't force him to come back if he doesn't want to. Maybe he just needs some time Dad. Maybe _we_ need some time."

Sam looked at John again and saw for a moment fear and sadness in his eyes.

"Dad he's gonna come back. We haven't lost him yet." Sam tried to console John. John turned to him and slowly nodded.

"You'd better be right son. Let's go back to the motel and wait, but if he doesn't call soon, I'm gonna tear apart this town looking for him." John said as he started the truck and they headed back to the motel.

"_Chris where the hell are you?"_ Sam asked to himself knowing his father would do just that.

Tbc


	7. Common Ground

Chapter 7: Common Ground.

Chris ran until he felt his lungs would explode. Stopping to catch his breath he vomited against the side of a building and sank against the wall, his body shaking.

"_Yes, we had my husband cremated." _Marybeth's words kept echoing in his head.

"Oh Marybeth, what did you do to me?" he said slowly getting up. Looking around he discovered he was about 15 blocks from his house. The neon lights from a neighborhood bar flickered and caught his eye from across the street. Ignoring the approaching car, he walked into the street almost getting hit, the angry driver honking as he continued on.

The bar was dark as he entered, and not very crowded. He knew the bartender, having been in there a time or two before, and knew he could run a tab. The bartender eyed him cautiously but allowed the tab to the 'stranger' when Chris explained he had just come from a funeral. If he had been here with Marybeth, a plain old beer would have done the trick. Instead Chris ordered a shot of whiskey with a beer chaser and moved down to the end of the bar where he could be alone. A few more shots and a few more chasers and Chris was plenty numb two hours later when he heard the phone ring in his pocket. Pulling it out, he stared at the Caller ID until it went to voice mail and tossed it on the bar. The bartender who was standing nearby looked at Chris curiously.

"It's probably the old ball and chain trying to get me to come home." Chris said slightly slurring his words as he lied to the bartender. The phone started to ring again and this time the bartender picked it up.

"Hey what the hell are you doing?" Chris asked panicking, trying to reach for the phone.

"_Shut up, he's saving your ass."_

"Buddy I'm cutting you off and I'm telling who ever this is to come and get your drunken ass." The bartender said as he flipped the phone open and answered it. A minute later the bartender handed the phone back to Chris after speaking to Sam briefly.

"Your brother says to hold tight and he'll be right here to get you."

"_You're lucky it's Sam coming and not Dad."_

"My brother is dead….." Chris said as he pocketed the phone again, his face filled with pain. The bartender gave him a sympathetic look thinking it was his brother's funeral Chris had been coming from.

"I'm sorry dude, well who ever it was will be here in about 5 minutes."

Chris nodded and stared at the bar until he felt Sam's hand on his shoulder a few minutes later. Turning around too fast, he almost fell off the bar stool. He would have hit the floor for sure if it hadn't been for Sam grabbing his arm.

He looked up at Sam, gave him a sad smile, and almost dropped to the floor again. This time John was at his side and helped Sam scoop him up. They half carried, half dragged the inebriated man out to the truck, all the while Chris kept calling for Marybeth. Once they got him inside and belted in, they took off back to the motel in silence. Chris slumped against Sam, earning a glare from John. Sam dodged his father's wrath and quickly looked the other way. Sam knew his father was angry and maybe rightfully so. This whole night would have gone a lot smoother if Chris had just stayed out in the truck. Sam knew it had to be a shock for Chris to find himself talking to his wife. What he didn't know was the reason Chris fled wasn't because he had talked to Marybeth but what she had told him.

Chris was starting to sober up a bit by the time they got pulled up in front of their motel rooms. John came around to the passenger side and helped Sam carry Chris into their room and let him flop down on the bed.

"She burnt me up…." Chris said slightly slurring his words. "Marybeth knew I didn't want to be cremated." He started to lean up on his elbows but then fell back flat on the bed again this time with tears streaming down his face as the room spun around on him.

"I hate fire…..she knows that…..we're all burnt up now, me, my Mom and Dad, Jerry, Stacey, all of us all burnt up. I told her what it felt like to be on fire…..why'd she do it John…..why'd she burn me up…I wouldn't even live in a house with a gas stove, or a fire place, did you know that John? She did…" Chris drunkenly ran on with his tirade. Even Dean stayed quite as he watched Chris struggle with his pain. Falling silent, he finally passed out again. Sam looked up at John stricken knowing even his father could sympathize Chris's fear of fire.

Over the next few hours they took turns holding the waste basket near Chris, as he would come around, throw up, and fall back asleep again. Convinced that he was finally down for the night, John returned to his room and left Sam watching over Chris. Finally around noon, Sam woke up to find Chris struggling to make it to the bathroom.

"Whoa, whoa there Chris." Sam said leaping off his bed, running to his side.

"Leave me alone, I can go to the bathroom by myself." He said protecting his eyes from the glare of the sun coming through the window. Shaking Sam off, he staggered until he was inside the bathroom, slamming the door shut, cursing the loud noise it made. Sam stood outside the door ready to break in if he heard the older man fall. Instead he heard the sound of water running as Chris turned on the shower. A half hour later, Sam knocked on the door certain that Chris had drowned.

"Hey Chris are you okay in there?" Sam asked concerned. Silence. "Chris, man, open the door."

More silence.

"Chris if you don't open the door I'm gonna break it down." Sam yelled, starting to be afraid. Finally he heard the water shut off.

"Um Sam, I'm gonna need you to get me some dry clothes." He heard Chris ask from behind the door.

"Why the hell do you need dry clothes?" Sam asked assuming there had to be towel or two that Chris could use.

"_Cuz the idiot took a shower in my favorite t-shirt. If you ruined it….."_

"Open the door and find out." Sam slowly opened the door and almost started to laugh. Sitting soaking wet in the tub, fully clothed, was Chris.

"I took a shower." He looked up at Sam with a sheepish grin.

"I can see that. Most people take off their clothes first." Sam said grabbing and towel and handing it to Chris trying not to laugh.

"Sure, sure now you tell me." Chris joked as he climbed out of the tub and started to towel off his wet hair. Seeing how pathetic Chris looked, Sam started to giggle as he turned around and walked back to the bedroom to get Chris some clean clothes. He was still giggling moments later when he returned to find Chris half undressed, looking at his new 'body' in the mirror.

"_Hey, you're looking at perfection here dude."_

"Your brother, how did he get so many scars on his body?" Chris asked examining his shoulders and chest.

"_What's the matter, chicks dig scars."_

"Kinda comes with the territory. We don't exactly have 9-5 jobs." Sam answered handing over the clothes and turning around to stand back outside the bathroom.

"I sort of gathered that. So what exactly do you and your father do? He mentioned something about hunting yesterday. Is that what you guys do, are you bounty hunters?" Chris asked as he changed into the dry clothes. Sam chuckled as he envisioned himself as a bounty hunter.

"Not quite Chris." Sam answered knowing he couldn't tell Chris the truth. "I wish I could tell you but Dad always had one strict rule and that was 'we do what we do and we shut up about it.'."

"So you don't think I could handle it?" Chris asked coming out of the bathroom.

"It's out of my hands, man. I'll ask Dad and see what he says but I can't guarantee he'll agree." Sam asked moving over to the kitchen table and sitting down.

"This has something to do with that 'thing' back at the museum doesn't it?" Chris asked following Sam into the kitchen. "Sam that thing killed me, or at least my body. Don't you think I deserve to know how I died?"

Sam looked away, as Chris stared at him, his eyes pleading for information. When Sam didn't answer, Chris frustrated, turned around, and started rifling through the cupboards looking for something. After slamming a few cupboard doors, Chris returned to the bathroom and Sam could hear him going through the medicine cabinet.

"What the hell does a person have to do to get some aspirin around here?" Chris yelled from the bathroom. Sam walked over to his duffle bag and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen. Chris came out of the bathroom in time to find Sam heading his way with the bottle.

"Here." Sam offered the tablets to Chris. Chris nodded his thanks and headed back to the kitchen to get a glass of water. After downing the pills Chris stood against the counter and rubbed his temples waiting for ibuprofen to kick in.

"How bad is it?" Sam ask sympathetically

'Marching bands, herds of elephants, jackhammers, and every other cliché you can think of" Chris winced as he answered. "I think I know why I never became a big drinker. I can't hold the stuff worth crap. Just how pathetic did I get last night?"

"On a scale of 1-10?" Sam asked amused at Chris's question.

"Yeah."

"_About a 50, no make that a 60_. _Bad Chris really bad_."

"About a 6, but you had a really good reason Chris, don't feel bad about it." Sam shot Chris a sad smile which Chris returned.

"Yeah I just wasn't prepared, you know, to see her. And she touched me. If it hadn't been for your father glaring at me from across the room I probably would've have blurted out who I really was right then and there. Of course then she probably would have called the cops thinking I was a nut case. Who knows, maybe I am. What am I going to do Sam?" Chris sat down at the table and looked up at Sam.

"I wish I could tell you." Sam answered.

"_Aww gees man, buck it up. Quit being such a wimp."_ Chris started laughing when he heard Dean's remark in his head. Sam glanced at him giving him a strange look.

"Dean thinks I'm a wimp," Chris explained pointing up to his head.

"You really can hear him?" Sam asked with hope in his voice again.

"Yep loud and clear. I'm sorry I know he's your brother and all, but ….." Chris stopped not wanting to insult Dean even if he was being a pain.

"_Hey I'm just telling it like it is."_

"Leave it to my brother to find a way to be a pain in the ass even when he's dead." Sammy sadly laughed. Chris gave Sam a sad smile in return.

"_Et tu Sammy?"_

The two of them sat there lost in thought for a moment when John opened the door and strolled in. Chris immediately stiffened at the sight of the elder Winchester, knowing he was going to have to face recriminations for the night before.

"Listen John about last night." Chris jumped up trying to stave off what could only lead to a blow out. John waved him off but eyed him angrily, before he sat down at the table across from Sam.

"You look like hell Chris." He said looking over at Chris.

"_Yeah look what he did to my body."_

"I have to say I feel like it too. John, seriously, about last night. I really want to apologize. I never intended to go inside once I saw everyone there. It's just when I saw her…I just had to see…I had to make sure she was ok. Her cousin came out, next thing I know I'm standing in the hallway and Marybeth is heading over to me, I just froze. And then when she told me about how she had me cremated. I don't know I just lost it." Chris started to apologize. John nodded grimly and looked over at Sam.

"I think Sam and I can relate to wanting to see someone so badly we would do almost anything to see them again. I've spent the last 20 plus years wishing I could see my wife again, she died when Sam was just a baby. Sammy here just lost his girlfriend only last year. It's a pain you never get over….."

"Looks like we all lost someone we loved, only I'm coming at it from a different angle." Chris said as he joined them back at the table. John and Sam both looked at him puzzled.

"I'm the one that's dead." He explained further.

"_Yeah but not dead enough, dude."_

"And you really didn't want to be cremated Chris?" Sam asked knowing when he died that was the only way he was going. In their line of business it was a necessity.

"Sam, you can't imagine what it's like to be on fire, I do. I know being dead, I wouldn't have felt the flames but …I just never wanted my body to be…totally turned to ashes. Just the thought of my body being on fire. It's too much like how I imagined my family died. My parents, my sister. No one ever told me if they died on impact, I can only pray they did. I don't want to know if they felt the fire, if they felt the fear and the agony. My brother Jerry, he suffered for days until he died…..I know that sounds irrational…" Chris continued but was interrupted when Sam suddenly got up and walked across the room, his eyes filled with tears. Chris looked over at John and saw the same pain on his face. "I'm sorry was it something I said?"

_"Damn it Chris I wish_ _you hadn't gone there."_

"You had no way of knowing son. My wife and his girlfriend Jess, they both died as a result of a fire." John explained without going into all the horrific details. Chris didn't need to know about demons, not yet.

"Oh my god" Chris exclaimed horrified. "Why didn't you stop me? Sam I'm so sorry. Oh god I just keep making this worse and worse."

"Chris, Dad's right, you had no way of knowing." Sam said coming back to the table. His eyes red but dry now. Chris was about to apologize again when John interrupted him.

"Listen, there's another reason why I came over here today." He said changing the subject. "There's something we need to check out."

"What's that Dad?" Sam asked not sure where his father was leading

"_All right, Dad's got a plan."_

"Chris here says he knows how to shoot a rifle. I say lets head out to the country and see how good he is. I hate to say this but we might need him as back up and I want to make sure he can handle himself if it starts to blow up in our face," John explained to a shocked Sam and a confused Chris.

"Dad you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting are you?" Sam asked wide eyed.

"Yep. We still have unfinished business that we need to take care of. Like it or not we're going to have to get it done."

"_Well it's about time."_

What, what are you two talking about?" Chris asked concerned when he saw Sam's reaction. John looked over at Chris with determined eyes.

"We need to get back inside the museum. We need to get rid of the ghost that started this whole Damn mess, and you're gonna help us."

Tbc


	8. Revenge

Chapter 8: Revenge

"_We need to get back inside the museum. We need to get rid of the ghost that started this whole Damn mess." _The whole time they were in the truck Chris heard that line echoing in his head.

"_What the hell did John mean by 'ghost'?"_ Chris thought to himself. _"He can't be serious."_

"_You have no idea buddy." _He heard Dean say in his head._ "Hell yeah, it's about time we went after that bastard."_

Finally John pulled over after determining they were far enough out in the country where he knew no one would hear the gun shots. Chris was nervous when he saw the arsenal John carried in the back of his truck. At first it was just the standard shooting, tin cans, tree branches, etc. Then John started shouting commands putting Sam and Chris through their paces. Shooting while running, and shooting while rolling on the ground, different types of guns. Chris was used to rifles and had never handled a hand gun before. The recoil left his hand stinging after a few hours of constant shooting. Chris, getting sore and tired of listening to John shouting at him, started glaring at John. Sam saw the look and knew right away he had to do something to prevent Chris from 'accidentally' shooting John or vise versa.

"Dad lets take a break. I don't know about you two but I'm about to fall over." He said casually coming between his father and Chris. John eyed Chris, saw the glare, and nodded.

"_Good timing there Sammy."_

"Thank god." Chris exclaimed, rubbing his sore hand. "This is what you two like to do for fun?"

"Not fun, necessity." John explained tersely.

"Oh that's right cuz you're 'hunters'." Chris said sarcastically. "That's why you want to get back inside the museum, you want to hunt what ever it was that attacked me and Dean?"

"It was a ghost and yes we're gonna hunt it down, and you're gonna get us back inside. Besides we need you to help us find that urn." The way John sounded Chris knew it was not just a threat it was a promise, he just couldn't believe John was expecting him to help catch the creature that killed him.

"_Alright Dad, I knew you'd come up with a plan."_

"And if say no?" Chris asked defiantly back.

"Dad you've got to be kidding." Shocked, Sam just looked at his father.

"_That_ is not an option. You _will_ get us in and you _will_ help us stop this bastard. I would think that you would jump at the chance to avenge your own death." John moved closer to Chris with a determined look on his face. Once again Sam stood breathless waiting for the two to go at it.

"Maybe I'm not so quick to face that thing again, after all it didn't go so well for me the first time," Chris retorted as he stared John back down. "And what do you mean with _that_ urn, what urn?"

"I say it again, that is not an option, and you will be inside with us. You're the only one who can talk to Dean and Dean is the only who can see this thing in time to warn us." John spoke with all seriousness. "The urn we need to find was the one that housed that damn ghost in the first place. Apparently one of your buddies chipped it and once the ghost was loose it killed him."

"Oh my god that's what killed Thomas? They never told us, just that he had been attacked and killed. I'm friendly with the other guy, Carlton. He told me it all happened so fast and now I know what he meant." Chris remembered talking to Carlton shortly after the attack. Still he couldn't believe John wanted him to revisit the scene of his own grisly murder. "So this ghost was responsible for Thomas's murder and my own and you expect me to go back inside to help hunt this thing?"

"Dad seriously, you can't expect Chris to come along. Isn't there some other way we can do this?" Sam asked giving Chris a sympathetic look.

"Sammy clearly we can't fight this ghost on our own. If we could have spotted it the first time Dean wouldn't be dead and we wouldn't be dealing with whole mess now. If we are going to believe Chris can talk to Dean then maybe we can use that to our advantage. Dean can spot it before we can, warn Chris, and then he can warn us in time to kill it. Listen Sammy, I know you don't like this idea but I don't think we have any other choice, it's too dangerous to go against it otherwise. We would be just as defenseless as we were before and I'm not willing to take a chance with you…." John stopped from stating the obvious.

"So you're telling me I don't have any say in this?" Chris asked, still incredulous that John would even suggest that he be brought along.

"_Not once my Dad has made up his mind."_

John moved in very close to Chris. His eyes narrowed and when Chris looked down he saw John had a weapon pointed against him.

"I will not say it again. You will be inside with us. You will help us hunt this bastard down. I've already lost one son to this ghost, I will not allow my other son to also become a victim. Only you can hear Dean and only Dean will be able to spot this guy before he can attack." John threatened. Chris took John's threat seriously. He backed away slightly but never took his eyes off John.

"You have completely gone mad." He seethed back. "It's only because of Sam that I am submitting to this lunacy. But once this is over, I am gone, do you understand that. I will walk away and you _will_ not follow me." Chris's voice held his own threat. Neither man wavered for what seemed like an eternity until John slowly nodded his agreement.

Sammy, standing nearby, released his long held breath, his hands shaking at the prospect that his father was about to shoot his 'brother'. What ever worries he had about Chris joining them on this hunt were tripled by the thought of Chris leaving them afterwards. He had already lost his brother and now he was about to lose what little was left of him. Sam kept silent as the three of them went back to the motel room and got ready for the hunt.

The ride to the museum was tense with none of them speaking until they had reached the door. After a quick glare from John, Chris typed in the security code for the back door and they all quietly slipped inside. Familiar with the layout, Chris led them to the restoration room on the 2nd floor of the museum. Armed with only flashlights they searched until Chris spotted the small wooden crate that contained the cursed urn.

"What I don't understand Dad that if he was already cremated, how he could come back as a ghost. His bones are clearly toasted." Sam asked as he looked down at the simply decorated urn.

"He used his blood in the paint to decorate the urn son. As long as the urn was around so was he. Perhaps it was his plan the whole time to come back from the dead but we will never know. We're gonna get rid of this urn once and for all. Chris I'm assuming this museum has a boiler room." John explained.

"Sure John, down in the basement. What do you plan on doing?" Chris asked still mesmerized by the thought of someone using their own blood to decorate their cremation urn.

"I'm gonna smash this into pieces and let it burn up in the furnace. What ever spirit is left, the flames will take care of it. Now show me where the boiler room is." John told him picking up the urn with his left hand, his gun still in his right. "Sammy, stay out of sight until you hear from me and don't let your guard down. This Caspasian is still a danger until we get the urn destroyed."

Sammy nodded as he watched his father and Chris leave the room and head down to the basement. Curiosity got the better of him and he started looking around the room, eventually heading out to the main museum. Meanwhile Chris had lead John to the basement and to the boiler room. After sending Chris back up to Sammy, John quickly began smashing the urn into tiny pieces. When he felt they were small enough he scooped them up and began throwing them into the furnace. He hoped he could get it destroyed before Caspasian attacked again but he was wrong.

Chris headed back up to the restoration room. He had just reached the landing between the 1st and 2nd floor when he spotted Sammy checking out a Renoir near the top of the staircase.

"_Sammy, look out behind you." _Dean suddenly shouted in Chris's head as he spotted the occultist's ghost before Chris did.

Sammy behind you!" Chris then shouted at Sam seeing the shadow quickly approach and aimed his shotgun. Caspasian managed to take a swipe at Sam, sending him to his knees before Chris could get off a shot. Chris's aim was true but the ensuing recoil from the gun caused him to step backwards towards the edge of the staircase. To Sam's horror, he watched as Chris lost his balance, and went tumbling backwards down the steps landing in a thud at the bottom.

"Chris!" Sam shouted as he flew 3 steps at a time to get down to the bottom. Not caring if Caspasian had been destroyed or not, he gently rolled Chris over and was terrified to find he wasn't breathing. Already heading back to the duo, John came running across the gallery only to find a panicking Sammy doing CPR on Chris.

"_C'mon Chris don't do this to Sammy. He can't lose you as well."_

"Sweet Jesus." John yelled as he ran up to Sammy and Chris. Sammy was doing mouth to mouth when he stopped and felt for a heart beat. John dropped to his knees next to them and looked at Sam expectantly as relief began to pour over Sam's face. Just then they could both hear the low slow sound of Chris taking a breath.

"Thank God." Sam said as tears of relief filled his eyes.

"_That's it, slow breaths, hang in there."_

Hours later they waited at the hospital for the doctors to let them know how Chris was doing. Neither Sam nor John spoke to each other as the doctors finally came out and told them about Chris's condition. Hearing that Chris was awake, Sam went down first to visit him, leaving John alone in the waiting room.

"Hey." Sam said as he poked his head in Chris's hospital room. Chris turned his bruised face and smiled when he saw Sam.

"Come on in" he said weakly. With his left arm in a sling from a broken wrist and collar bone, an ice pack on his right knee where he had wrenched it and a bandage over his left eye, Chris looked like he had been through the ringer.

"You look like hell." Sam joked, concerned but trying to stay upbeat.

"_Yeah look what he did to my gorgeous body."_

"Thanks I feel like it too. Who knew that falling down a staircase could be so painful?" Chris joked back. The two of them fell silent not sure what to say to each other. Suddenly uncomfortable, Sam began to fidget and looked around the room. Finally Chris broke the silence.

"Um Sam, I just wanted to tell you thanks, you know for saving my life back there. One of the doctors told me you had to use CPR to bring me back." Chris said trying to get Sam to look at him. Sam grimly nodded and continued to look anywhere but at Chris.

"You scared the hell out of me, Chris. You weren't breathing….I couldn't… I didn't want to lose you too…." He said as he finally looked at Chris. "And by the way we're even."

Chris looked up at him confused.

"If you hadn't shot Caspasian's ghost, who knows what he might have done to me. As it is, he managed to give me one good scratch before you got him, I figure we're even." Sam said giving Chris a big smile, showing him his bandaged arm.

"He scared the hell out of me coming out of nowhere like that. For a split second I wasn't sure if I got him or you." Chris stopped and remembered the moment he fired before he fell backwards down the steps. "You guys do this all the time, hunting ghosts. Doesn't it ever scare the crap out of you?"

"I guess I don't really think about it much anymore. Dad had us hunting stuff from the time we were little kids. Dean, I think he was born to be a hunter. By the way you shot Caspasian's ghost I'd almost say you were channeling him." Sammy said, smiling as he thought about his brother.

"God I hope not. It's bad enough he's in my head. If he's gonna start moving around my body as well…" Chris started to laugh and then winched as he tried to move his left arm to get it more comfortable.

"_Well if you're gonna keep throwing me down a flight of stairs I might just have to take over."_

"They got you on any pain meds?" Sam asked as he saw the pained look on Chris's face.

"Yeah they're making me all dopey. I feel like I'm under water." Chris said as he started blinking his eyes trying to stay awake.

"Why don't you get some sleep then Chris? Dad and I will be down in the waiting room if you need anything.

"s'okay." Chris murmured as he closed his eyes. Sam watched him quietly for a moment before leaving the room.

"_I owe you a big one."_ Chris heard Dean say before he drifted off.

"For what?" Chris murmured back to Dean.

"_For saving Sammy's life back there."_ Dean replied.

"Seems to me you did the saving, I just shouted a warning." Chris was trying to stay focused but wasn't having much luck.

"_But you shot the bastard, Chris. He was close enough to slash Sammy and if you hadn't hit him with the rock salt just then I'd be short one little brother." _

"You're welcome." Chris said as he finally fell asleep.

Hours later he woke up to find John lost in thought sitting next to his bed. He studied the man for a moment trying to decide if he should disturb him. Seeing Chris move slightly John looked over at him and gave him a grim smile.

"You're awake, how are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

"'bout what you would expect. My left arm is killing me. I think the meds are wearing off." Chris answered

"I could go get the Doctor if you want?" John offered.

"No don't, I hate the way they make me feel." Chris said adamantly not wanting to feel dopey again.

"Sounds like something Dean would say." John said wincing himself. Chris slowing nodded and looked across the room not knowing how to answer that.

"You almost did it, didn't you?" he asked suddenly knowing John would know what he was talking about. John looked down at Chris's bed but nodded in agreement. "Why didn't you then? You had your chance, you could have had your son back."

"Chris it's not a simple as that." John answered but avoided Chris's eyes.

"Why not? I'm sure by now you figured out where you made your mistake. This whole mess could have been over with. Dean would be back with you two and life with the Winchesters would have just continued on."

"Maybe I just wasn't willing to do it?" John answered so lowly Chris wasn't sure he heard him correctly.

"What?" Chris yelled almost getting up from his bed.

"Ah damn it I wanted you to protect Sammy, I didn't expect you to get yourself killed. If you hadn't been there….." John's admittance shocked Chris. "Maybe I wasn't willing to take that chance and have it fail again. Maybe I wasn't willing to kill you to get my son back. Maybe I'm just trying to say thank you. "

"You're welcome. Listen I didn't do anything that you weren't already expecting me to do. I saved your sons life, now all I want to know is are you going to live up to your end of the bargain." Chris turned his bruised face to look John in the eyes.

"I gave you my word. Not so much for my sake as for Sammy's, but call him now and then after you leave. Just let him know you're okay. Since you've been around he hasn't really lost his brother but when you go…" John's words trailed off.

"He hasn't really had a chance to grieve yet has he?" Chris asked watching John expression change from anger to sadness.

"No" John answered lowly.

"But then neither have you." Chris said realizing John was still hanging on to hope. John's next words proved that.

"As long as you are alive, my son is not dead."

Suddenly Chris wasn't sure he could leave the two of them.

XoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooX

Authors note: This chapter is a little bit longer than the rest to make up for my lack of updates recently. Thanks to the readers who have been sticking it out so far. Lack of reader's interest really had me considering whether I was going to finish this story or not. I'll probably just wrap it up in the next chapter and then just put it to rest.

Thanks again.


	9. Reality

Authors note: I meant this to be the last chapter but I found I still had too much story to tell. Therefore there are two final chapters instead of only one. Hope you enjoy.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

Chapter 9 Reality.

An uneasy truce was formed after the museum fiasco. Sam played nursemaid, something Dean never would have allowed him to do, for the first few weeks it took for Chris's arm to heal. At first Chris was hesitant. While he could manage by himself, Sam just seemed so helpful, so needy, that Chris let Sam hover as much as he could stand. John made the decision to stay in town until Chris had healed enough and busied himself doing research for other hunts. Secretly he dreaded the thought of leaving town and leaving 'Dean' behind. He made the promise though and John was going to stand by it no matter how painful it was going to be.

Chris didn't have to be a mind reader to notice the Winchesters were itching to get back on the road. As he spent more time with them though he wasn't sure he would be able to leave. He had grown quite fond of Sam in a big brother sorta way. He hadn't realized how much he had missed his own brother until he started hanging out with Sam. Impromptu wrestling matches over the remote and the occasional touch football game in the parking lot left Chris torn over how he was going to leave them behind. Even John was growing on him in his gruff way.

Chris could see Sam struggling at times though. The longer he stayed the harder it seemed for Sam to differentiate between Chris and his brother. Most days he had no problem calling him Chris, and treating him like he wasn't Dean, but then there were times in the middle of a conversation, Sam would call Chris 'Dean' by accident. Chris would let it slide, but it was hard not to notice the look on Sam's face when he realized his mistake.

Now Sammy was accidentally referencing past hunts that he had done with his brother and Chris was having to remind him that he had done those things with Dean and not him. Chris grew his hair out and had it cut the way he used to wear it 'before'. That combined with his new clothes and not ever wearing anything that was Dean's, helped a little but not enough. Desperate he bought at pair of non-prescriptive glasses and thought about growing a beard but shaved it off when John made a comment about how scruffy he looked.

"Yeah like, what the hell is on your face John?" He joked back to John after his comment.

"Damn Chris, are you trying to look like someone else?" Sam remarked the day he started wearing the glasses.

"I _am_ someone else Sam." Chris answered back knowing he would have to step up his plans on leaving sooner.

"_Aww gees I don't even look like myself anymore, I look like some geeky school teacher."_

"Hey I was some geeky school teacher Dean." Chris said inside his head back to Dean.

John was able to find a few more hunts locally and he and Sam would take off at odd hours of the night leaving Chris behind to wonder what was going on. Even though he knew enough of what they did to accept what happened at the museum he still didn't have a clue about what they really did. His ignorance ended the night Sam accidentally left John's journal behind. As he scanned through the pages he felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. Things he had only heard about in movies or bad TV shows were suddenly very real as he read though John's journal page by page. It was that night that he confronted them about what they did and John reluctantly told him about everything. Given what had happened, John didn't see he had much choice. He took the gamble. Chris was either going to accept their occupation or not. If he accepted it, maybe he would want to stay and leave town with them. If he didn't, John knew he would be gone before daylight.

Chris was shocked and thought about leaving right then and there. He stopped knowing he couldn't leave without at least a warning. To just up and runaway would be too crushing for Sam.

"This is all true? This is what you do all the time? You hunt these….." Chris asked Sam waiting for the confirmation that would change is life.

"Yes." Chris's mind spun around when he heard Sam's answer. The part of him that wanted to runaway was quickly being countered by the part of him that wanted to protect Sam from the things that they hunted. He wondered if that was Dean's influence over him.

"_Sorry Chris I can't help it. You're the only way I can still keep an eye on my little brother."_

"I'm not sure if I'm crazy or not but I guess I'm staying. But listen when I say you're never leaving me behind on a hunt again do you hear me." Chris said making up his mind. John nodded grimly while Sam practically knocked Chris over jumping on him.

Hours later they were packed and heading out of town on I-40. John led in the truck while Sam drove the Impala behind him. Chris could only stare out the window as they drove west out of town. When they got near the city limits Sam could have sworn he heard Chris whisper his wife's name and glanced over in time to see Chris rubbing his eyes. It was suddenly all too real for Chris. No more going to some of his old hangouts. No more asking Sam to drive past his house to catch a peek at his wife. Once he left town he would never see Marybeth again. The finality of it made his heart ache. He took one more look out the window catching a glimpse of his school as they drove on the elevated portion of the interstate. After that he just faced forward and never looked back.

For months afterwards, John worked him hard, training him to handle all the weapons they would need on a hunt. At times Chris baulked but picked it up quickly much to John's surprise. It helped having Dean inside his head giving him tips to use and Sam at his side encouraging him when he wanted to give up. Still if John thought a hunt might get too hairy he kept Chris in the back safely behind him. It took a while to realize John was holding him back to protect him. Finally Chris knew he was going to have to prove his worth on a hunt. He found a story in the paper and did his own research. Sam started to protest Chris's plan when he told him but went along anyway. It was a simple salt and burn, and everything went as plan, that was until they got back to the motel room and had to face John. Sam thought he was going to have to turn on the fire hoses when Chris and John got into it again. When things calmed down, Chris proved to John he could handle himself and John conceded that maybe he could…maybe. Well it was a start.

They were heading up to South Dakota to check out some rumors of a haunted day care center when John called and told them to pull over for gas off the next exit. As soon as the two vehicles pulled into the gas station, Sam jumped out and started to pump the gas. Chris was starting to help with the driving now, and stayed behind in the Impala, something Sam still had a problem with occasionally. It was still weird to look over and see his 'brother' next to him behind the wheel. Months ago that would have been the most normal thing in the world but not now and not Chris. While Sam was inside paying Chris fished around inside the car and accidentally came across Dean's box of tapes. Not thinking or realizing, he slipped one in and was listening as Sammy came out of the gas station. Sam slipped into the passenger side and soon they were following John back on the road.

AC/DC filled the car and Chris started lowly singing to Hells Bells. Sam looked over at Chris, just smiled, and closed his eyes relaxing to the sound of his 'brothers' voice. It was all too easy to and all too familiar.

"_Hell yeah, crank it up."_

"Wow I haven't heard this tape since I was college." Chris said as the tape flipped around and started the other side. Not opening his eyes Sammy smiled.

"Dean you never went to college dude." He mumbled as he leaned his head against the door. Suddenly he sat straight up and looked horrified at Chris.

"Pull over." He said as he started turning green."

What?" Chris asked, "Why do you want me to pull over."

"Just pull over I'm gonna be sick." Sam said desperately.

Chris didn't even check the mirror before he rocketed to the side of the road. John ahead in the truck saw them pull over and had to make a u turn to get back to them. Once stopped, Sammy raced from the car and started running into the wooded area next to the road.

"What the hell." Chris yelled as he leaped from the car and started after Sam. Soon John was also parked and went after the two of them coming up on Chris first looking for Sam.

"What the hell is going on?" John bellowed seeing Chris's panicked look

"I don't know, Sam said he was getting sick and asked me to pull over. Then he raced into the woods and I don't know where he is."

"Go back to the car and wait. I'll go looking for Sammy." John ordered.

"But wait, I can help."

"He doesn't want to see you right now Chris." Chris looked over and John and suddenly knew what he was talking about.

Minutes later John came across his youngest son, leaning breathless against a tree, trembling, tears running down his face. He looked up as he saw his father approach.

"Dad…I want Dean….I want my brother back…Dean…." he sobbed as John pulled him up and pulled him to his chest.

"I wondered when this was going to happen." John said as he held Sam close to him. "I want Dean back just as much as you do, son, but it's not going to happen. Your brother is gone Sammy, we have to accept that. We have Chris now…"

"Chris oh god, he must think I hate him." Sam said pulling away from his father wiping his face.

"He thinks no such thing. He would do anything for you, Sammy, even leave if he thought it was too much for you to have him around anymore. He knows how much you miss your brother and he knows you're having some trouble with that. He and I talked about it several weeks ago. You've been calling him Dean more often and Chris was afraid that his presence here was making it difficult for you to accept that Dean wasn't with us anymore." John spoke softly to his youngest son. He too at times found it difficult to watch Chris knowing the man who stood in front of him was no longer his son. "You know the reason he stayed with us is because of you."

"That's not the only reason, John." Chris spoke up suddenly behind them, looking straight at Sammy.

"Dean, he asked me to stay because he said that was the only way he could still keep any eye on you."

"Oh god, Dean." Sammy said managing to looked pained and hopeful at the same time.

"_Let me talk to him Chris."_

"_Are you sure that's such a wise thing to do?"_ Chris silently asked back. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Sam any further.

"_He's a Winchester dude, I think he can handle it."_ Dean answered back. Chris started to nod to himself causing John and Sam to both give him a quizzical look.

"Dean wants to talk to Sam." Chris offered quietly.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Authors note: Hang on there is still one to go. Thanks for reading.


	10. Goodbye

Chapter 10 Goodbye.

John and Sam both hesitated. Chris quickly assurred them every word would be from Dean and only Dean. John looked over at Sam and saw fear on his face. He shook his head back at Chris and Chris nodded back, understanding. Sam saw the look between his father and Chris and jumped towards them.

"No wait I want to, Dad please." He begged turning to his father and then to Chris. "Chris please."

"Alright son." John said reluctantly. Sammy stuffed his hands in his pockets suddenly tongue tied and afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"Ease up dude, it's only me." he heard his 'brother' say.

"Dean." Sam said looking straight into Chris's eyes. For a moment he could swear they were hazel again instead of Chris's blue eyes.

"The one and only, big brother extraordinaire. Have you missed me tiger? " _Dean_ asked already knowing the answer.

"Of course I have." Sam answered annoyed. "What kind of stupid question is that?"

"Gees dude, I'm speaking from beyond and all you can do is be pissed at me."

"I'm not pissed at you; well maybe I am a little bit. Jesus Dean, what the hell. You get yourself killed, some other guy is roaming around in your body, and we're just supposed to accept this. Well maybe I don't want to accept this. Maybe I just miss your stupid ass." Sam said feeling the tears well up again.

"I miss you too buddy."

"Dean I'm sorry."

"I am too. Look I know you have every right to be mad at me right now but it's not my fault. Hell it's not even Dad's fault and yes I know you're blaming him too. Crap happens Sammy. We deal with the risk every time we go after something. Does it suck, sure it does. There's no hot chicks here. It's boring as hell, and I have to watch some other _me_ drive my car." _Dean_ smiled at Sam and watched his brother struggle not to smile back. Finally Sam gave in and started to laugh.

"Boring as hell eh?" he asked with a sad chuckle.

"Yeah I don't have my trusty geek boy sidekick to bug the hell out of me."

"Dean I wish…" he started but _Dean_ put his hand up.

"Yeah I know dude." _Dean_ answered back. "You're not gonna want to hug me or anything are you?"

Sammy looked down at his feet and shook his head.

"Aw the hell with this." Chris suddenly interrupted grabbing Sam and giving him a big hug. Sam hesitated for just a second before clinging to his brother and sobbing on his shoulder.

"_Aw Jesus Chris leave it to you to want to have a chick flick moment. Sammy's never gonna let me live this down."_

"_You're welcome Dean."_

"_Yeah well, thanks."_

John watched his sons embrace and felt his own eyes well up with tears. Dean was there, if only for that moment and he once again was grateful Chris had decided to stay with them.

"Dad…..." _Dean_ said looking over at his father.

"I'm so sorry Dean." John said before suddenly turning around and heading back up to the road.

"Shit Dean…" Sam said watching John walk off.

"It's okay, really it is, Sammy. I understand it's just Dad's way." _Dean _said watching John leave as well. "Listen up little brother; if you ever want to talk, Chris here is an excellent listener. Now you'd probably bore the hell out of me with all your emo crap but Chris here loves it. Hell, he's even more chick than you are."

Chris started to choke the second the words were out of his mouth.

"Hey watch with the insults cave boy." Chris directed at Dean to Sam's amusement. "but seriously Sam, Dean is right. If you ever need to talk, or you ever want to talk to Dean again, all you have to do is ask." He looked at Sam waiting for Sam to acknowledge the offer.

"Seriously dude are we good?" _Dean_ asked.

"Yeah we're good, thanks Chris." He said finally answering. "and thanks Dean, for you know, always being my big brother."

"No prob, tiger."

That being said, the two of them walked back up to the road to where John was waiting in the truck. This time Sammy did the driving and when it was Chris's turn again he made sure he never played Dean's music again.

oooooooooooooo

Stopping in Saint Falls, South Dakota the next day Chris and Sam busied themselves with researching the local haunting while John went and got the necessary supplies.

"Apparently this guy, Ricky Deets, killed several people in a home invasion before running from the cops and taking refuge in a nearby daycare center. He took several of the kid's hostage before the cops could get to him." Sam explained as he read the web page regarding the attack. Chris looked over his shoulder and visibly shuddered.

"That was always my greatest fear, you know, that someone would hurt my students. Were any of them killed?" Chris asked reading the screen as well.

"No it says he let them go and then took his own life before the cops could get him."

"_So this dude off's himself in a daycare and doesn't have the decency to take off. Dead people can be so annoying. Sounds like a salt a burn to me boys." _

"Dean thinks it's gonna be a simple salt and burn." Chris snickered before repeating it to Sam.

"I don't know, I think Dad thinks we gonna have to do some sort of ritual to get rid of him. He doesn't want to waste anymore time looking for this guys grave. He thinks we can handle it right there at the daycare, you know a little Latin, a little rock salt.

"_Don't forget about me boys."_

"Dean's says to not forget about his lovely warning system that he has going on." Chris offered Dean's services to a confused Sam.

"Oh yeah he can spot Deets before we can, and give us a warning. Smart thinking Dean." Sam said acknowledging Dean's offer.

John came back shortly after and the three of them continued making plans looking over the layout of the daycare that John managed to get.

"Apparently he holed up in that one classroom and it's in that room that the cops found his body afterwards. Since the incident none of the children, not even the ones that weren't there that day, will go anywhere near that room. Several of them claim to see him still hiding in the corner with his gun pointing at them. Even some of the teachers swear they hear noises coming from the room. One said she sometimes can hear what she thinks is a gunshot coming from inside the room. Either way, it's time to take this bastard out. You guys ready?" John told them as they looked over the layout.

"As ready as we'll ever be I guess." Chris answered. He still wasn't quite used to this whole ghost hunting gig. They waited till after closing before picking the lock to the back door and turning off the alarm system. John motioned for Sam and Chris to follow him down the hall to the back room. John assumed, as did Chris and Sam, that they were going to have to hunt Deets down. That was not the case. He attacked as soon as John opened the door.

"Sammy, Chris down!" John yelled as he started shooting at the ghost rushing them.

Diving down Sam got off a shot but not before Deets started shooting at them. Throwing themselves behind a nearby desk Sam and Chris started shooting back missing Deets by mere inches. While they reloaded John decided he could attack Deets head on and tackled him to the floor. To Sam's horror he watched as his father suddenly was flung across the room losing his empty gun. John scrambled to find his gun and reload while Chris and Sam shot repeatedly at Deets with their own guns. Deets went down but not for long. He picked up his own gun and fired it in Sam's direction. Knowing Sam was out of bullets Chris threw himself in front of the younger Winchester and immediately felt the impact of the bullet piercing his chest. John came from across the room firing once again hitting Deets until he evaporated into black dust. Not realizing what Chris had done to save him, Sam got back up and joined his father. Stunned Chris reached down to his chest, not comprehending how seriously he was injured. He looked down as the blood began to spread, soaking his shirt. His knees felt weak, as he looked over at the Winchesters.

Pleased with the outcome John and Sam smiled at each other and turned around to face Chris unaware of what had happened to the other man. Their faces went white when they saw him standing gasping for air before falling to the floor in a bloodied heap.

"Oh my god Chris!" Sam cried out as he and John rushed over to Chris's side. Eyes bright Chris looked up at the two of them as John fell to his side and Sam lifted his head to cradle him.

"Dad, oh god we have to stop the bleeding." Sam pleaded with his father who was struggling to tear off his over shirt to stop the bleeding.

"Nooooo" Chris said weakly as John pressed his shirt against Chris's wound.

"What are you saying Chris, we've got to call 911." Sam said as he pulled out his phone. Chris's and John's eyes locked and John knew what he had to do. He nodded to the dying man and reached up to stop Sammy from dialing.

"I can't, it's too late." He said trying to keep his feelings in check. Sam looked back at his father in shock.

"Dad he's gonna die if we don't get him to a hospital. What are you waiting for?" Sam was border line frantic.

"I'm gonna die anyway Sammy….." Chris said weakly, his strength giving out. "Remember John, on the last heartbeat." John nodded solemnly as Sam looked down finally realizing what Chris was saying.

"No, no Chris we can still save you." Sam pleaded not wanting to give up on the man who had become his friend...his brother. Chris looked up at Sam as tears shone in the younger mans eyes.

"I don't want you to Sammy…..I want to go home… I want to see my family again…..you have to let me go…." With each word Chris struggled until his voice was barely a whisper. Sam nodded finally accepting Chris's choice.

"Can you see Dean, son?" John asked knowing Chris would try to hang on as long as it took Dean to get close by.

"He's right next to you John, he's got someone with him." Chris struggled to talk more and looked past John to see who was with Dean.

"Mom…..." Tears starting rolling down his face as he saw his mother smiling at him for the first time in over 20 yrs. "Thank you Dean."

"_No thank you Chris. Thanks for saving my brother." _Dean said back as he looked at his father and brother hovering over Chris.

"You're welcome….." Chris whispered and took a final look at the two men leaning over him.

"I want to go home now…..." he said seeing them both nod right before closing his eyes one final time. Sam picked up his wrist and felt his pulse weakening. John readied himself to say the spell that would bring back his oldest son and prayed this time it would work.

Taking one last breath, Chris smiled as his body relaxed. Sam gave in to his tears as he felt the Chris's last heartbeat and John started chanting. It seemed like an eternity as John's struggled to speak. His heart was torn part by loss of the man he had come to accept as his son. The blue light they had witnessed before once again began to envelope Dean's body. Sam kneeled back, his heart racing, as his father finished and they waited for the moment of truth. For 10 agonizing seconds, they waited until Dean suddenly gasped for air. Sam grabbed John's over shirt and pressed it to Dean's wound not wanting it to bleed any further until it could heal itself.

"Dad what's happening?" Sam reached to grab his brother as Dean began to convulse in front of them.

"I don't know son, the spell, and the shock must be too much for Dean to take."

The both looked on horrified as Dean continued to convulse. Finally they watched as his body slowly stopped shaking. John reached for his neck to feel for a pulse and was rewarded with a weak but steady one.

"He's alive." He said as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Sam didn't care, he started to cry openly as he clutched his brother tightly. For more agonizing minutes they waited for Dean to open his eyes and when he did they were rewarded with his familiar hazel eyes.

"Dad…..Sammy…" Dean said weakly. "I'm back…I'm really back…."

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Days went by while Dean recuperated. Sammy hovered, never leaving his brother side, and for once Dean was grateful. His brother could see him, touch him, aggravate the hell out of him but that was okay cuz he was alive again. Even John seemed more attentive that usual. Sammy surprised Dean by pulling out some of his old clothes.

"I couldn't just throw them away.," he admitted when he handed Dean his prized shirts. They talked, joked, and just stayed near each other never forgetting for one instance who was missing….Chris.

On the third day, the three of them loaded up in John's truck and he drove them out in the middle of nowhere. At first Sam couldn't tell what his father was up to but then he recognized the makeshift funeral pyre. Dean and Sam nodded. After all it was a fitting end for a member of the 'Winchester family'. Of course they didn't have a body to burn so Sam had to laugh when he watched Dean pull out Chris's clothes out of his duffle bag.

"Evil Dockers….Evil polo shirts…be gone.," he said as John lit the wood on fire and he tossed the clothing on top. He reached in one final time to pull out Chris's glasses and hesitated. Instead of tossing them on the fire he turned to his little brother and handed them to him. Sammy grasped them tightly as he watched the flames grow higher.

"Goodbye Chris."

"_Goodbye Sam." _Sam smiled as he heard Chris's voice.

The end.

Authors note: This story really had me at odds most of the time. I thought it was a cool idea to bring back someone else in Dean's body but I guess most of you didn't. That's okay…I still retained some readers even though most took off after the first chapter. Thanks to everyone who hung in there. You are the reason I finished and I am eternally grateful to you all. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
